


If you try sometimes, you get what you need

by whosays_penultimate



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Arguments, Barebacking, Bondage, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Chris and Victor are BFFS, Chris gives great advice and is a clever lovable man, Covers episodes 7 to 12, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Foot Massage, Happy Ending, It all comes full circle, Jealous Katsuki Yuuri, Kissing, M/M, Mild D/s Overtones, Misunderstandings, POV Alternating, Pining Victor Nikiforov, Possessive Katsuki Yuuri, Semi-Clothed Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Slow Burn, Some humour I hope, Symbolism, Top Katsuki Yuuri, Victor is a babe, Victor is a hedonist, Victor's long winding path to finally getting Yuuri, Yuuri and Victor love each other aye there's the rub, Yuuri cranks up the volume from awkward to hot, Yuuri is a lil ball of anxiety, Yuuri's long winding path to confidence, but expect some differences post Ep 11, quick delve into Victor's backstory, that one tie used as a gag (you should've burnt it Victor), will they make it work?, yes because love always wins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-06 06:39:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8738620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosays_penultimate/pseuds/whosays_penultimate
Summary: After Viktor kissed Yuuri at the Cup of China, Yuuri closed off from a potential relationship, due to his insecurity and anxiety. Having decided Yuuri doesn’t want him, Viktor goes pleasure-seeking. After Yuuri finds him with another man, they decide to commit to each other and take things slow. They’re wildly different people, so will they make it work? Also, there’s a medal to be won, which may or may not be gold, old demons to fight and forgotten words to be remembered.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first anime fic ever. Don’t judge too hard, mmkay?

 

It wasn’t what should have happened.

Viktor had kissed him, passionate and impulsive and all Yuuri could do was blink up at him, with blushing tenderness, as Viktor returned the look and explained his action.

“It was the only thing I could think of to surprise you more than you surprised me.”

_Ah._

What had Yuuri expected? A resounding declaration of love? A marriage proposal? Yuuri could barely feel the hard cold surface of the ice rink where his back was pressed, because his senses were flooded with Viktor’s warmth pressed to his front, the memory of his soft lips on his – wasn’t that enough for him? Yuuri licked his lips slowly to savour any lingering taste of their sweetness. That would be all he’d allow himself for now. Because Viktor was playing, always playing.

Yuuri had dragged Viktor off the ice, the great champion suddenly unsteady on his feet without his skates on the slippery ice, with a hand wrapped tightly around his arm and fingers entangled possessively with his.

But then – Viktor broke away just as they reached the kiss and cry – he disentangled their fingers so he could make the shape of a heart at the camera.

_Ah._

It wasn’t even a very good heart – Yuuri judged, throwing him a sideways glance. Stupid Viktor.  

Yuuri half knew he was being unreasonable, but he suddenly felt exhausted all the way through his bones. He could barely see around him and his nerves felt stretched to their limit, his emotions running wild, elation and resentment, the need to cling to Viktor and the familiar wish to be left alone.

The medal ceremony next. Right.

Yuuri was happy for Phichit, he really was. He hugged his friend and messed up his hair, gratified by the twinkle in his eyes when he smiled and jumped for joy. Yuuri stood there on the podium, grin in place, and thought about Viktor kissing him, not on the cold ice, but in a warm bed, and not a swift press of lips but a prolonged, delicious make-out session, tongues coming out, shyly at first to brush against each other, playing at soft touches, getting slowly familiar, then rubbing against each other with mounting heat, in a fight for dominance in which Yuuri was for once doing his best to win – Viktor would take the lead as always and bear down on him to suck on his tongue and Yuuri’s eyes would roll back into his head. They would start touching each other – Viktor would map Yuuri’s body with his long elegant fingers, teasing his favourite spots – after some hesitation, Yuuri would dare to reciprocate the caresses – Yuuri’s mind buzzed with the images it conjured and Viktor’s voice sounded in his ears like an unholy soundtrack ‘Pleasure followed by pleasure, one just drowns in it’. Yuuri felt positively weak with love and lust – and then, on the wings of that excitement came pure, blank, terror. The reality of what could become their new situation wasn’t quite enough to keep his old fears and insecurities at bay.

Across the ice, his glazed eyes focused and met Viktor’s eyes who was looking up at him smiling, and clapping along with the rest of the crowd. He seemed happy and proud – but then again Viktor was a cheerful, positive person, so that didn’t mean anything in relation to Yuuri.

Yuuri frowned and a cold bitter thought crossed his mind: fact remained that Viktor had just proven to him, twice in a day, that he was a very impulsive person. Yuuri was enchanted by him, but also wary.

So Yuuri did what he’d always done in circumstances such as these – he fled.  

He was in his hotel room now, staring at his silver medal and reliving the day’s events when there was a knock on the door.

“...Yes?” Yuuri said.

“Can I come in?”

Viktor. He obviously thought Yuuri would recognize him by his voice alone and Yuuri grimaced because of course he did.

“Of course”, Yuuri he said out loud.

Viktor came in, smiling brightly, but his look turned a bit confused when he saw Yuuri’s stance. It must have looked weird, seeing Yuuri just sitting at the table and apparently doing absolutely nothing. Viktor glided further into the room, with uncharacteristic hesitance, and finally perched down on the edge of the sofa.

“Um – Phichit’s looking for you, I said I’d come get you. We’re going out to celebrate.”

“Right”, Yuuri answered. His jaw hurt and suddenly he realized his teeth were clenched in pure tension. He released a breath on a sigh, unclenching his jaw, willing himself to relax.

“Are you alright, Yuuri?” Viktor asked with concern. “You seem sad, angry. I know you wanted the gold but-“

“No”, Yuuri hastened to answer. “I mean – I did want the gold of course. But I’m not sorry Phichit got it – he deserved it. And I am happy with my performance.”

“And so am I”, Viktor said warmly, his bright eyes fixed on Yuuri.

“I – I kind of got that”, Yuuri chuckled, “You made sure to let everyone know. Like the entire country.”

Viktor’s eyes crinkled at the corners.

“The entire _world_ , those interested in figure skating at least. There were a lot of cameras on us. I like Phichit’s angle the most, very artistic.”

Viktor grinned, obviously pleased with the entire situation, and Yuuri groaned, cheeks heating up. It was actually quite funny, if he didn’t allow himself to dwell on it too much.

However, Viktor swiftly turned serious again, and continued to prod him:

“So, what is it then, Yuuri?” he asked, with concern.

“I’m just tired”, Yuuri answered. It was true. He _was_ tired. All the adrenaline that had kept him going, through pain and lack of sleep, had left him abruptly and he felt his sleep-deprived body aching for a long rest.

He wasn’t that tired not to go over to where Viktor still sat, now looking a little lost, and get another taste of those soft lovely lips. Two could play that game. But Yuuri didn’t. He remained rooted to the spot, trying to smile apologetically. He knew that once Viktor left, he would go into the shower and touch himself – he was so high strung, it wouldn’t take long, just a few seconds of tugging at his cock and he would only need the vague sense memory of Viktor’s lips on his to push him over the edge.

“Okay”, Viktor said, and Yuuri blinked. “Try to get some rest.”

A flicker in Viktor’s expressive eyes betrayed a little disappointment, but then he stood up, and offered Yuuri a small, affectionate smile. Yuuri sat stock still, half dreading that Viktor would come over to him - to hug him, touch him, kiss him again? – and he braced himself for it.

But Viktor faltered for only a brief second, as he stood his ground.

“Good night then, Yuuri. Don’t worry, I’ll tell your friends you’re too tired. I’m sure they’ll understand. See you tomorrow.”

“Good night. Thank you, Viktor.”

Viktor nodded and left quietly. The door closed behind him with a soft *snick*, and Yuuri breathed deeply and mentally reassured himself that it was all good.

 

The next day, they were back in Japan. Viktor ate katsudon with Yuuri and his family, but then in the evening, he went out and did not return until the early morning. Yuuri knew this because he stayed up.

The next day, Viktor seemed fine if a bit hungover, but cheerful as always, so Yuuri was careful not to say anything. That night, Viktor stayed home.

But on the third night, Yuuri was awakened abruptly by an undiscernable noise. He perked his ears in the dark, listening attentively for a repeat. The sound came again and it was unmistakably like a whine, definitely signalling distress, he thought, and of course Yuuri recognized Viktor’s voice. He shot out of bed immediately, fumbling for his glasses. Makkachin shifted on the bed next to him, awakened by his sudden movement and Yuuri peered at him confused. It wasn’t the first time Makkachin had chosen to sleep with him but it wasn’t reassuring Yuuri at that moment either. He quietly left his room and crept up the stairs. What was wrong with Viktor? Was he sick, was he crying? Oh no, his door was half open. Burglars? Serial killers? What was he supposed to do? He had a tachi sword mounted in his room, but it was purely ornamental. He crept closer, listening intently, trying to keep as quiet as possible so as not to betray his presence, and peered through the half open door, careful to remain hidden in the shadows.

The sight that greeted him was definitely not what he expected.

His eyes bulged out at the sight and his mouth opened in a soundless gasp of Viktor’s name.

Well.

At least Viktor seemed alright?

More than alright, in fact. The man who had kissed Yuuri and who largely featured in most of his fantasies was sitting up against the headboard, head thrown back against the wall. His legs were sprawled wide and between them, Yuuri saw the back of an unknown man whose head bobbed up and down energetically. If Yuuri had any doubts whatsoever about what was going on, the loud slurping noises would have been a dead giveaway.

Viktor was receiving a blowjob. From a stranger. Who _was he_? Just someone Viktor picked up for a one night stand or was he something more? Viktor sure looked like he was enjoying it... Yuuri regretted that his viewpoint did not allow him a view of exactly how much Viktor was enjoying it, but judging by his flushed face, with eyes screwed shut and mouth opened wide as he made those noises which Yuuri had innocently judged to be distress, when in fact they expressed torturous pleasure .... well – no comment. Yuuri bit his lip to the point of pain as he felt himself grow impossibly hard.

“Yuu- yuu –“, Viktor moaned, turning his head abruptly from one side to the other, hair flying wildly around his face.

Yuuri froze.

The slurping noises stopped, as the stranger straightened and said:

“What?”

“Y – you – hngh, you’re so good at this”, Viktor panted and the stranger, no _– the intruder_ \- chuckled, gratified.

Yuuri suddenly decided he did not like this at all.

“I’d like to take you now”, the stranger said. Yuuri could see he was choosing his words carefully, almost politely. This wasn’t a long-term thing, they weren’t close –yet? - Yuuri didn’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed. “Is that alright with you?”

“Go ahead”, Viktor answered, and smiled.

Yuuri shuddered. He should go back to his room. He really should. What was he even doing here, spying on them like some creep?

Viktor stretched back on the bed with luxurious decadence, staring at his partner through his eyelashes, and Yuuri lingered to watch him, lips parting involuntarily at the sight.

He’s so beautiful, Yuuri thought nonsensically. It hardly seemed fair.

“You’re so beautiful”, the man said out loud to Viktor, and Yuuri almost gasped out loud in shock, then bit into the back of his hand furiously, to muffle the sound.

Viktor rolled his eyes wearily.

“It’s been said”, he remarked.

His long elegant fingers were stroking his cock lazily, and Yuuri stared, transfixed. The moment stretched on, with Viktor being watched by two pairs of eyes, similarly enthralled.

A sudden jarring movement startled Yuuri, who was so focused on Viktor, he had forgotten about the intruder.

“What are you doing?” Viktor demanded sharply as his wrists were abruptly tackled and pressed  up to the headboard, a belt looped swiftly around them. “I don’t think we know each other well enough for something this!”

The stranger didn’t appear impressed by Viktor’s angry tone and his attempts to kick. He merely tightened the knot and answered calmly:

“Look, I know what’s going on here.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow sky high at that.

The stranger continued, unperturbed:

“Once you get your rocks off, you’ll never want to see me again. You’re just using me – and it’s alright”, he hastened to reassure Viktor that he was not being confrontational. “It’s what I signed up for, isn’t it? But I don’t want it to be over so soon. I want to enjoy it for as long as I can.”

Viktor twitched and tugged at his restraints experimentally:

“What about _my_ enjoyment?” he frowned.

“Oh, you’ll enjoy yourself as much as you did so far, if not more. I’m just making sure you won’t come yet. I promise I won’t hurt you. Won’t do anything you won’t like.

Yuuri took in their interaction with mounting anxiety. The sword, it crossed through his mind. Now, go grab the sword. The only thing that perplexed him is that Viktor did not seem remotely frightened. Annoyed, possibly – but his erection hadn’t softened, and he hadn’t raised his voice.

“Oh, a promise from someone I only just met, that’s invaluable”, Viktor merely remarked, with a smirk.

“You should know that around here, we don’t take promises lightly!” the unknown man answered on a slightly hurt tone.

Viktor’s nose scrunched:

“I’m not in the mood to draw things out.”

“You shouldn’t be afraid to try new things.”

“I’m _not_ ”, Viktor answered, pointedly.

The unknown man considered him seriously for a few seconds.

“If you’re serious about not wanting this, I’ll untie you, just say the word.”

Viktor hesitated. Something flickered in his eyes and he finally answered, on a low voice:

“No. No, it’s okay. Go on.”

The stranger smiled and then visibly relaxed:

“I’m going to take care of you”, he said, his tone momentarily changing from lustful to affectionate, and Yuuri felt again the strong impulse to barge right in and put an end to this ridiculous scene.

How dare he. How dare Viktor -

...”So, who is he?” the stranger abruptly spoke, breaking through the haze of anger in Yuuri’s mind. When Yuuri focused on the scene in front of him again, he saw the man teasing his tongue over one of Viktor’s nipples, slow and unhurried, the nub pebbling sharply at his efforts. Belatedly, Yuuri registered that the tone had been almost even, conversational. A tone someone shouldn’t have when they were running their hands all over Viktor’s body and sucking at his skin.

“Uh-huh – _what_??” Viktor mumbled incoherently.

His hair was plastered to his forehead in disarray and his cheeks were flushed. He looked up with unfocused eyes, struggling to make sense of the question.

Yuuri held his breath.

“Who is the man you’re imagining now in my place? Must be someone really special.” He brushed his hand slowly over Viktor’s stomach on his way down, giving his leaking cock only a perfunctory caress, and slipping further between his legs.

Viktor arched off the bed with a tortured moan.

“Ah! Yes _he is_!”

“Why are you here with me then?” the stranger taunted.

“It’s not -Ah – not your business, пизда,” Viktor’s voice broke angrily over the last word, which Yuuri was sure it was a swear word and quite a nasty one at that, judging by the venom in Viktor’s voice when he uttered it.

The stranger merely chuckled. For a while only the sound of their heavy breaths was heard and the squelching of lube. Yuuri could not see what was done to Viktor but he could imagine very well. He could see how much Viktor liked it by his increasingly flushed face and by the way his entire body shuddered at times.

The stranger’s thoughts once again seemed to be following the same path as Yuuri’s:

“You’re here with me because I’m making you feel good. That’s all that matters”, he pronounced.

Yuuri bristled with barely supressed rage.

“So do it already”, Viktor drawled. “So far you’ve only played around, when are you going to fuck –“

Yuuri had no time to be shocked at the sound of _that word_ leaving Viktor’s mouth, because Viktor ended his sentence abruptly on a high-pitched wail, as the man chose that exact same moment to pull him down the bed and _thrust_. Yuuri’s vintage point became partly obscured but he knew what had happened. There was silence for a few seconds, and Yuuri felt impossibly hot then deadly cold, standing there in the darkened doorway. His eyes were watering behind his glasses. He could barely see Viktor who was now lying on the bed, underneath the man whose back muscles were rippling with the effort to keep still. Then he saw Viktor’s long legs slowly wrapping around his partner’s back, urging him on. He saw Viktor’s elegant hands which were fastened to the bedpost, scrambling for purchase as his partner began to thrust. Since he saw so little of Viktor in this position, Yuuri couldn’t help focusing on the stranger, and noted abstractly that he was handsome and athletic – his movements sensual and experienced. Their lovemaking was beautiful, but Yuuri felt as if each slap of their bodies against each other was like a blow to his face. Witnessing this was no longer exciting – it was hurtful. He could hear Viktor gasping and occasionally moaning and Yuuri somehow knew that Viktor held back, refraining from being as loud as he wanted to be. Was it out of concern for not waking Yuuri? Or because he didn’t want to give his partner the satisfaction of hearing how much he liked it? Not that the man on top needed any extra encouragement, Yuuri thought he was too focused on his own pleasure and oblivious to Viktor’s reactions. That angered Yuuri anew. To have Viktor like this and just fuck him mechanically like a doll was an outrage. Viktor deserved more than this – Yuuri realized he trembled with something like nausea, his arousal had all but entirely faded and now he was just sickened and convinced that the scene would be the stuff of his nightmares, not fantasies. He was about to bolt downstairs to his room and bury himself under a mound of blankets next to Makkachin.

A broken groan and the stranger pulled out, holding the base of his cock and breathing harshly through his nose. He stayed like this for a few seconds, hunched over, willing himself not to come. Yuuri caught a glimpse of Viktor’s icy gaze as he looked up. He sank further back, deeper into the shadows, his heart pounding. For a second, he could’ve sworn Viktor had looked right at him, but when he dared to look again, he saw Viktor’s eyes fixed on his partner, who had at last managed to pull himself from the brink. Yuuri thought Viktor’s gaze was unreadable, but his partner did not seem to think so.

“Stop staring at me like that”, he snarled. “Like I’m _no good_.”

With frenzied motions, he reached up and untied Viktor’s wrists, then flipped him over, dragging him half off the bed, his knees on the floor. It happened quickly and rather violently, but Viktor gracefully went with it. He keened as the stranger crowded behind him and pushed back inside him, holding his head down on the bed.

“Does that feel good? Hmm?”

‘No’, Yuuri wanted to hear him say. Yuuri definitely did not feel good. Say no. Say no.

“Ah!” Viktor shouted and shook his head to dislodge the man’s grip of his hair. He lifted his head from the mattress where it had been pressed down and turned it towards the door, _towards Yuuri._ Yuuri stood stock-still, afraid to even draw a breath. It was no way Viktor could see him, he reminded himself. He was sheltered by the darkness. Yuuri allowed his eyes to hungrily roam over Viktor’s face. So this is how he looks – this is how he looks when he – flushed, heavy-lidded, dishevelled, tears on his eyelashes, eyelids fluttering with every movement.

“You’re not allowed to touch yourself until you answer”, the man raved on. It seemed to be a sore point with him. “Do you like it? Do – you-  like - what I’m- doing- to –you-?”

‘Please answer no’, Yuuri thought at Viktor, concentrating hard. ‘Tell him he’s worthless.’

“Nghhh yes, god YES yes ...ah...please. Please”, Viktor ended on a low whine and pressed his palm over his own mouth to muffle it.

But his partner seemed satisfied. He grabbed Viktor’s other hand which he tried to sneak underneath himself to touch his cock.

“No no, no, lovely. Let me do that for you.”

Yuuri abruptly turned tail and left. Once in his room, he realized belatedly, that his jaw was once again aching dully from where he had kept his teeth gritted for who knows how long. This was ridiculous. What the hell had possessed him to stay there and watch? Now the scene was forever imprinted on the back of his eyelids, just waiting to haunt him. Worst of all, he felt as if Viktor had done him a wrong. He felt betrayed. He knew it was a ridiculous train of thought, but his feelings didn’t stop to listen to reason. Viktor was allowed to do whatever he pleased, he tried to persuade himself, it’s not like you’re in a relationship. And whose fault is that? An evil little voice in Yuuri’s mind replied. ‘Shut up,’ Yuuri told the voice. ‘This doesn’t matter. None of this matters. All that matters is that Viktor kissed me. All that matters is that Viktor thinks about me. I know it now and that’s enough for me.’

He crawled underneath the blankets, and willed sleep to come. Makkachin snuggled close. His warmth was comforting, reminding him of Vicchan, and Yuuri soon drifted off.

 

The following day, Yuuri woke up around noon with Viktor’s fingers running through his hair. Yuuri blinked slowly.

“Hey, sleepy,” Viktor said, his voice a low purr. “Wanna go for a run with me?”

Yuuri leaned into the touch, while staring up at Viktor's blurry face. He felt around for his glasses.

“That goes for you, too”, Viktor addressed Makkachin, who sat up on the bed, tail wagging happily. “Traitor”, he added jokingly. “What treats did you give him, Yuuri, to coax him to sleep with you?”

Meanwhile Yuuri had found his glasses and the sight of Viktor, so happy and carefree after last night, made his features twist in a moody glare:

“I guess Makkachin knew where he was most wanted”, he answered resentfully, then berated himself for it. That sounded like too much of a giveaway.

Viktor’s fingers momentarily stumbled in Yuuri's hair – but then he swiftly regained his usual cheerful persona.

He sat up, the picture of confidence and optimism.

“So, shall we go for a run then?” he asked brightly.

Yuuri wasn’t about to say no, and neither was Makkachin.

They loved Viktor too much.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who gave me kudos and an extra special thank you for everyone who commented! I was insecure about this fic, so it means a lot to me that you guys like it! I hope you'll continue to like it! : )

 

They set off at a run towards the Ice Castle, which was their usual destination, but once they crossed the bridge, Yuuri veered left, to continue his run along the water. Viktor followed suit, without comment. It was a beautiful day, one of the rare sunny days of late autumn, if a bit chilly, and Yuuri wanted to enjoy the sun on his face for a little while longer. They passed the promenade, zig-zagging in between a few early birds on their morning stroll and reached a place further off with a few stone slabs and low benches. In summer, it would have been a popular gathering place for children and students, because of the nearby lavender garden, but now it was deserted. Yuuri stopped running, but kept on moving, walking briskly along the paths of the little park. Makkachin plopped down dramatically on a grassy knoll, exhausted and panting. Then he flipped over, exposing his belly to the sun and yawned with a small whine.

“Tired, boy?” Yuuri said as he passed him, and reached out to pat his floppy ears.

Viktor had stopped in front of a high stone tablet with markings on it, and was studying it, eyes wide.

“What does this say, Yuuri?”

“Hm? Oh that. It’s a tsunami stone.”

Viktor looked at him with a blank expression, so Yuuri elaborated:

“They’re put up as warnings, or reminders to people, that tsunamis are very destructive, Usually it’s in the form of a reminder to build houses only on high ground. ‘Do not build below this level’. Or ‘don’t risk your life to save your material possessions’, that sort of thing.”

He came over to take a closer look at the tablet.

“This particular one says ‘If there’s an earthquake, a tsunami might follow.’”

“Wow!” Viktor said.

“Don’t worry”, Yuuri felt compelled to reassure him. “This region we’re in, the Saga Prefecture, has the least occuring natural disasters in all of Japan. We’re blessed like that.”

“No I meant – it’s funny but I was thinking, this sounds like something that I’ve been hearing a lot – back in Russia, I mean.”

“What, about earthquakes?” Yuuri asked warily.

“No. We have a saying in Russian. Беда́ никогда́ не прихо́дит одна́. It means, uh – trouble never comes alone.”

“Something bad brings about something even worse?” Yuuri frowned.

“Yes.”

“What about something good?”

“We don’t really have sayings about something good. I don't know."

“But why would people be saying that to you? I mean...you’re – you’re blessed.”

“I wasn’t always”, Viktor replied. “And people only feel the need to counsel you when things go wrong. Not when things go well.”

He winked at Yuuri, as if privately letting him in on a joke. Yuuri suddenly wanted to give him a hug, and then sit him down with a cup of his favourite mochaccino and ask him about his life. He lifted his hand hesitantly and touched the silver hair which fell haphazardly over one side of Viktor’s face. He rubbed the fine strands between his fingers, mesmerized, as always, by their colour and texture.

“Always the fascination with the hair”, Viktor huffed, placidly amused.

The spell broke when Yuuri felt Viktor’s arms envelop his lower back, pulling him close. He disentangled abruptly from the grip and took two steps back.

“We should probably go – get something done today, hm?” Yuuri said, voice rising on a squeak.

Viktor merely looked at him, chewing on his lip thoughtfully.

“What?” Yuuri panicked.

“Are you really going to go by the day pretending absolutely nothing happened?” Viktor said, suddenly, and Yuuri’s ears started ringing with a white noise.

“Wh-What?” he managed to blurt.

“I can tell what’s on your mind, by the way you look at me, by the way you’re suddenly avoiding my touch again, just like in the beginning. I have to say – it’s totally not what I was aiming for. I was aiming for the opposite effect, but you always manage to surprise me, Yuuri.”

Viktor’s words were uncomprehensible to Yuuri until their meaning suddenly hit him like the sky falling over his head.

“What?? You – You _know_ – Oh my god, you know –“, he babbled incoherently, “You know I looked – and I – I saw -“ Yuuri stopped abruptly because he felt all air leaving his lungs in a rush, leaving him lightheaded – for a few seconds he only saw darkness in front of his eyes and momentarily feared his vision had completely failed him.

He gulped, eyes watering, and managed to take a couple of shaky breaths. Good, air was going in. That would have to be enough for now.

“You know I looked”, he repeated dully.

“I was hoping you’d come look”, Viktor answered, with a flirty smile.

Yuuri’s mind couldn’t process the words:

“So you....didn’t know?”

“I left the door ajar on purpose – so that if you wanted to, you could come and look.”

“You set me up?? You wanted me to find you like this??”

Viktor laughed:

“You make me sound like a super villain, I didn’t _set you up_. I just made it easy for you to see. If you wanted to. And you did want to look. I was right.”

“You –- oh god. I hate you,” Yuuri said, and in that moment, he fully meant it.

Something like hurt flashed quickly over Viktor’s features, but then he countered:

“You don’t hate me, Yuuri. You love me.”

“Right now, I hate you”, Yuuri answered slowly and seriously.

He set off walking again at a brisk pace, round and around the park, as if trying to put everything behind, to walk it all off. Viktor joined him.

They walked stiffly for a while, next to each other, careful for their arms not to brush.

“I can’t believe you did this”, Yuuri broke out. “You’re playing, always playing with me.”

“Yuu-uuri”, Viktor said. “Stop making a big deal out of this. It was –“, he sighed with irritation, then went on, “Fine, I see I will have to explain it to you. The reason why I did that was to get you to jumpstart our relationship. After all, I kissed you and nothing happened. You know, that’s how most people start dating? Well, that didn’t work, so I figured I needed to up the ante. I thought - if you got really jealous, it might bring things into focus for you – if you really wanted me, that is.”

“Well, mission accomplished. I’m very focused, and jealous, and angry, and I damn near hate you. Is this what you wanted?”

Viktor looked over at him.

“No, not really. And you’re not angry, you’re just sad. And you don’t ‘damn near’ hate me. You still love me too much. You need to stop loving me so much, Yuuri, otherwise, you’ll never let yourself get close to me.”

Yuuri smiled slightly, then he answered, on a tired voice:

“Perhaps you’re right. But I’m not a dependent variable, Viktor. You can’t play me like you did at the beginning of our relationship. I’m not that starry-eyed kid anymore.”

Yuuri returned Viktor’s look and upon sight of his clear blue eyes, in which he thought he could detect the flicker of a smile, the dam of his anger broke, and pure unadulterated fury rose to the surface.

“I will not be played”, he snarled, rising up menacingly to match Viktor’s height, his fingers gripping Viktor’s right wrist, squeezing it mercilessly with the intent to hurt. “I won’t allow it anymore.”

Viktor’s eyes flickered with something like surprise, but it wasn't the pleasant kind of surprise that Viktor loved. Yuuri watched, fascinated, as the clear blue of the Russian's eyes turned a stormier shade of grey. It was Yuuri's turn to gape at him as Viktor spoke:

“Yuuri, I’m sorry. That was horrible of me. I see that now. I thought you’d like it, just as I did. I thought it would give you the impulse you needed to be with me. I never meant to... please, Yuuri, that hurts.” The fingers of Viktor’s right hand were timidly trying to dislodge Yuuri’s painful grip of his left wrist. Yuuri tightened the grip viciously for an extra second, before abruptly letting go with a push, and Viktor almost toppled backwards.

Yuuri noticed he had the decency to look chagrined.

“I’m sorry”, Viktor repeated, and took a few steps back. He whistled for Makkachin and the dog bounded up to him – together they set off still further into the little grove bordering the park. Yuuri knew that he wouldn’t have far to go until a fenced-in property signalled a dead end, so he followed, not quite side by side, but not far off. The path quickly gave way to a messy thicket, but Viktor gave no sign of wanting to turn back.

“Where are you going?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor shrugged and kept on going.

“Oh, I see. You’re sulking. _I_ should be the one to sulk, you know.”

“Go ahead”, Viktor replied, and he sounded so bland, so uterly defeated, so unlike Viktor, that Yuuri felt terrified.

“What are you doing?” Yuuri asked, raising his voice.

“Just walking. You don’t have to follow me. I understand you probably don’t want to see me right now. Let’s put some space between us.”

“I don’t want space!” Yuuri shouted, feeling his anger rise again. It was incredible, how Viktor could understand him so well and yet sometimes manage to be so unbelievably thick. “And stop walking that way, it’s a dead end. Let’s go back.”

A few steps ahead, Viktor had reached the fence already. He stopped abruptly, and stared it down, disgruntled, as if unwilling to believe something was blocking his path. 

Yuuri rolled his eyes, and turned, resolutely making his way back towards the park.

Makkachin followed first, and then Viktor slowly fell into step beside him, still uncharacteristically quiet. It gnawed at Yuuri in ways he couldn’t explain. He itched to break the silence and for once, he felt confrontational.

“Actually, now that we have things out in the open, I would like to ask you, how many people did you have in your bed since you came here?” Yuuri asked, conversationally, his voice trembling only slightly. He pushed for a genuine reaction from Viktor and also he couldn’t help twisting the knife in his own gaping wound, with a sort of bitter satisfaction. “Or maybe the better question is, how many more do you intend to have?”

Viktor stopped and faced him, icy blue eyes narrowed and glinting with resentment. Yuuri felt stupidly gratified at getting a reaction out of him that felt less rehearshed.

“Stop it”, Viktor hissed. “You know I think of you. You know you’re the one I want.”

“And when exactly were you planning on letting me know?”, Yuuri replied sarcastically.

“When exactly were you planning on being able to handle it?” Viktor snapped back.

“That is so unfair!” Yuuri retorted.

“Really?”

“Yes. You knew what you were getting into with me. You should know by now how insecure and worthless and _mediocre_ I am,” Yuuri said, relishing the bitterness of the words.

“Yuuri!” Viktor gasped loudly, his frown fading to be replaced by a look of complete surprise. “You’re _none of those things_!” he continued with vehemence.

“You once told me yourself, that I was ordinary - I haven't forgotten that! And I sure feel like I am, in your presence”, Yuuri answered, stubbornly refusing to be swayed by the look in Viktor’s eyes.

“Am I...making you feel worthless?” Viktor said on a small voice. “Then I guess Yakov was right, I’m pathetic at being a coach.”

Yuuri shook his head, impatient at not making himself understood.

“Viktor, on the ice, you make me feel like I’m the strongest, most beautiful person on the planet, and like I can always get even better. But take the skates off and put regular shoes on me, and I’m still the same awkward person I was when we first met – I can’t be confident, seductive, assertive, whatever it is that you need me to be.... like the men you take to bed,” he added cruelly.

Ironically, it was Yuuri who raised his voice this time, with fire in his eyes, and Viktor who looked down, avoiding his look, suddenly contrite.

Yuuri took a deep breath, and with a strong finality, he forced out the punchline, his voice steadier than he felt:

“I can’t be who you want me to be.”

“Who says I want you to be that”, Viktor muttered unconvincingly, picking at a bit of fluff on his jacket. He pouted and frowned like a petulant child, and Yuuri suddenly did feel confident and mature.

He also realized something very important in that moment. Their conversation, painful as it had been, hadn’t been a waste. Yuuri realized now that Viktor, for all his bravado and flirty nature, had next to no experience with serious relationships and a significant degree of emotional immaturity. Yuuri could choose to call him out on it – or tuck that realization safely inside his mind, place those few precious failings of his longtime idol on top of all his rather more obvious qualities, filed under ‘knowledge of what made Viktor Nikiforov himself’, and count himself blessed that he could get close enough to be aware of them. And at that moment, this new-found knowledge seemed so precious to Yuuri, maybe even more so because of the manner in which it was obtained – like everything he had worked for in his life, with struggle and pain. Invaluable, really, because they made Viktor human, and this in turn made Yuuri feel like his own failings were not unforgivable.

 

“...Hey”, Yuuri said, on a lighter tone, and Viktor looked at him inquiringly. “You said you were sorry and I think you really meant it. So even if I don’t exactly feel like ‘kiss and make up’ right now, it’s going to be okay, Viktor. Let’s not stay upset at each other. We have a lot of work to do. Let’s just try and put this behind us and set some boundaries.”

“Why would I be upset”, Viktor said again, and shrugged sulkily, in a scarily accurate impression of Yurio. Then Yuuri’s later words seemed to register and he frowned even more: “What boundaries?”

“For starters, I don’t want you having any more one night stands. When I stood outside your door and watched you that night, what you were doing with that man, at first I felt aroused, but then I felt hurt, and sick and angry. If given the chance, I’d have wanted to hurt you so bad. I still want to hurt you. It’s turning my love for you into something ugly and twisted and I don’t want that. I know I’m not really entitled to ask you not to see other people because we’re not in an actual relationship, but if you really care about me, you’ll agree to it.”

Viktor just stared at him, mouth slightly open in shock, stricken by the utter innocence and honesty in Yuuri’s words.

“Secondly, I understand that it’s only fair that if you give something up, I’ll have to give something in return. And so I promise that every day, I will do something or ask something of you that will remind you that you are loved and that you are mine.”

“Like what?” Viktor whispered, still staring at Yuuri like he was spellbound.

“Well, you really don’t deserve it today for everything that you put me through, so we’ll go with something simple.”

They had reached the park again and Yuuri sat down on one of the benches. He took out his shoes, then his socks, resting his bruised pale feet on the cold stone with a gasp of relief. Viktor sat down on the bench beside him, still not taking his eyes off Yuuri, and Yuuri promptly put his feet in Viktor’s lap.

‘I’d like you to massage my feet, treat them gently though, nothing too rough, because they feel really sore.’

‘Oh Yuuri’, Vikor breathed. ‘Your darling feet.’

He sounded so awed that Yuuri surpressed the sudden urge to chuckle. _I’ve hit upon a kink, have I?_ he thought. _Lucky me._

‘I’ll do more than massage them’, Viktor said, running his fingers feather-light along the offering in his lap, finishing off with sensual caresses to the calf, which made Yuuri’s toes curl. ‘I’d like to suck on your toes.’

‘D-don’t!’ Yuuri almost shouted, his previous grasp of the situation suddenly thrown to the wind at those words. ‘We’re in public, anyone could walk by and see us’, he begged. ‘And’, he added, in what he hoped was a stern tone, ‘you’re not allowed to, yet.’

Viktor hummed to show that he agreed. He shifted on the bench in a better position, and pressed Yuuri’s feet further into his lap. Yuuri bit back a yelp and tried to relax. Viktor renewed his caresses with more vigor, pressing down a little, but not enough to cause pain or discomfort. In fact, the presses felt oddly soothing and Yuuri felt his sore feet tingle pleasantly under the ministrations. He started to relax, his shoulders slumping and his eyes closing as his head fell slightly back. He could feel the sun shine on his eyelids and just as intense, he could feel the warmth of Viktor’s focused attention.  

“You know, Yuuri, you shouldn’t lace your skates so tightly,” Viktor murmured quietly, as his fingers moved in a circle, round and round and round, over a particularly angry bruise, as if coaxing it to dissappear. Yuuri stared transfixed at the slow sensual movement – it was hypnotizing – he felt heat rise up in his cheeks.

“Yeah?” he asked, aiming for an even tone, and failing abysmally. 

“Yes. Some of these bruises, like this one here, can be avoided.”

Viktor’s fingers now moved over the entire foot, in long strokes, cupping the heel, moving upwards in a fluid caress, and finishing off with a slight grip of the ankle.

“Mmm?” Yuuri said. He couldn’t be bothered to form words. It felt too good. He never wanted this to end.

“That’s skate bite, right here,” Viktor clarified. “You tie your laces too tight and it irritates the skin until it forms a bruise. I’ll tie them for you a few times – and you’ll see the difference, and then you’ll remember how to do it. But now the damage is done so we’ll need to buy some pads to help relieve the pressure.”

“I didn't even realize it", Yuuri said. "It's probably because I'm so tense that I over-tighten them." Then the a certain part of Viktor's speech registered and he froze. "Uh -Huh??” he eloquently reacted.

“Yeah, there are some special soft pads for this sort of thing. Skating shops sell them, I’ll order some.”

“No – I meant uh – you’ll tie my skates for me?” Yuuri asked, bewildered.

“Yes, why not?” Viktor said, evenly. He let go of Yuuri’s right foot, setting it back down in his lap, and moved on to the left.

Yuuri squirmed. Was his left foot even more sensitive than the right, or was Viktor being even more focused? Or maybe it was the way that Viktor so warmly and matter-of-factly talked about taking care of Yuuri and doing things for him, lovely intimate things like tying up his laces, that made Yuuri’s heart swell and his eyes water.

“Alright”, he answered slowly. “We’ll do that.”

Viktor looked into his eyes and smiled, a small, tender smile, which Yuuri allowed himself to mirror. Viktor treated his left foot with at least as much lavish attention as his right. Occasionally, he pressed and felt around a bruise, checking Yuuri’s eyes for a reaction. If he winced, the touches then became feather-light, soothing the inflamed skin. Yuuri felt boneless and completely relaxed under Viktor’s maddeningly soft and skilled hands. Involuntarily, he let out a gasp and shuddered as Viktor started a light but invigorating massage.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Viktor asked happily.

“Oh, god. You’re so good”, Yuuri moaned.

“Mmm”, Viktor hummed at the praise, his eyes darkening a little.

Yuuri nearly bit his tongue, as he realized how that must have sounded, but fortunately that was the moment Makkachin chose to prop his head on top of Viktor’s knee, vying for their attention.

Yuuri patted the dog’s head, then said:

“It’s getting late. Shouldn’t we go practice a bit?”

“Of course, Yuuri. It’s gotta be three hours every day during skating season, remember?”

“Well, you’ll need to let go of my feet for that”, Yuuri pointed out, amused.

“Am I? Well then.”

Viktor finished the massage with a flourish and a tap, and Yuuri swung his feet from Viktor’s lap to the ground. Yuuri felt light on his feet now, like a breeze could carry him, and he had half a mind to race straight to the castle at the top of the hill. He randomly remembered the tsunami stones. Only build on high ground. Yeah. _Yeah, that’s what I’m doing_ , he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed a timeline mistake in the previous chapters; because realistically they couldn't have gone from China to Hasetsu to spend a few days there, because the Rostelecom cup was very soon after Cup of China. Oh well, that's done though.
> 
> So....how about that episode 10, huh!
> 
> I kinda feel like the versions of Viktor and Yuuri in my story are still pretty relevant even in light of that big reveal, like...pining, frustrated Viktor and more-in-control-than-he-himself-realizes Yuuri. But. I just gotta say it - the canon OWNED US. On so many levels. Like at this point, what even is a fic lol. When you have such a fantastic canon. They basically brought them all the way to a happy ending, what even can I - heh anyway *plods on - got my own story to tell!
> 
> THANK YOU for the kudos and comments on Chapter 2!! I'm glad you still like it!

“Tell me about your life in Russia”, Yuuri said.

It was the evening before they were set to leave Japan for the Rostelecom Cup, and only four days had passed since the night Yuuri tried his best to forget. Seven days since the kiss, of which there was no repeat performance yet. Three days since Yuuri promised Viktor that every new day would hold a small gesture of love and belonging. Viktor seemed to take it for granted that Yuuri would be the one to choose when and how these intimate moments would happen, and Yuuri surprised himself by acting on his impulses without prior planning or anxiety. They were little things, but they were important to him. A while back, he would have worried that Viktor might find him immature, but now that was the least of his concerns. Now he was more focused on exploring who Viktor was to him and who he was to Viktor – studying his own reactions with the curiosity of someone who was, for the first time, well and truly in love. There was also a small vindictive part of him which wanted to see how far he could push Viktor out of his comfort zone. Deep inside, Yuuri was rather pleased that with a few choice words, he had managed to rattle the usually unflappable Russian into showing genuine upset and remorse. He enjoyed the idea and he was able to do that, and he didn’t feel guilty for wanting to do it again.

His coach and idol had already pushed the limits of Yuuri’s comfort zone in any way imaginable, and Yuuri figured he needed to take back some control.

And he went about it like he supposed one should in matters of the heart – slowly, warily, but thoroughly.

It was only yesterday that Yuuri had reached out tentatively for Viktor’s hand, when they were returning home late from the Ice Castle. The street was almost deserted under cover of the night so Yuuri felt confident enough to initiate the gesture, even though his cheeks were burning. Viktor didn’t seem to understand his embarrassment, but enthusiastically squeezed the proffered hand in his own, twining their fingers together. Yuuri’s heart hammered painfully in his chest and a dizzying warmth enveloped him, but he didn’t pull his hand away, and so they continued walking like this until they reached the onsen.

Just before they entered, Yuuri broke the hold abruptly, as Viktor was reluctant to let go. A stern look from Yuuri told Viktor he wasn’t allowed to complain, he would take only as much as Yuuri wanted to give him.

Tonight, they were both tired and expecting an exhausting day tomorrow, so Yuuri asked Viktor for something almost childish – could he please let Yuuri play with his hair. Viktor laughed out loud, again expressing his amusement at the fact that Yuuri seemed to have a slight obsession.

Yuuri was sitting on the couch in Viktor’s room, so Viktor came over and lay down with his head in Yuuri’s lap, and Yuuri started to run his fingers leisurely through the silver strands. The television blinked at them from a corner, but neither paid it much attention.

Yuuri looked down at Viktor’s relaxed features, somehow equally soft and sharp, amazed at how they never seemed to fade into an easy familiarity for him. It would have been so much easier for Yuuri if they had. He remembered Viktor’s words to him: ‘You need to stop loving me so much, Yuuri, otherwise, you’ll never let yourself get close to me.’ That was true. But ‘Love’ perhaps wasn’t a very accurate word in this context. Maybe ‘worship’ was what he meant. Yuuri didn’t want to hear Viktor seriously propose that Yuuri needs to recalibrate his love for him to a more mellow, dilluted sort of affection. A little less vodka, a little more sweet tea. No, that wasn’t Viktor’s style. Perhaps what Viktor had meant was that Yuuri needed to see him as more of a human being and less of a god? Easier said than done, especially when Yuuri knew next to nothing about the man Viktor Nikiforov, and any information the latter volunteered about himself was nothing Yuuri hadn’t read before in fan magazines.

So, on an impulse, and making it sound like part of his earlier request, meaning Viktor wouldn’t be allowed to refuse it, Yuuri had blurted out:

“Tell me about your life in Russia.”

He felt Viktor stiffening slightly in reaction, then sighing, a little dramatically, Yuuri thought, his chest rising and falling with the motion. Makkachin, who was settled half on top of Viktor, mirrored it with his own dramatic sigh, which, unlike his owner’s, expressed only the deepest content.

“What do you want to know?” Viktor asked.

“Just...anything you feel like telling me.”

“Not that much to tell. I started skating when I was five. When I was 13, I started training with Yakov. I already had the basics by then.”

“...You know, Viktor, I’m not here for an interview. That’s not the sort of arid stuff that I want to hear.” And I already know all this from magazines, Yuuri added in his mind.

“Well, what then?” Viktor asked petulantly. He turned over on the couch, overturning Makkachin, who looked momentarily confused but then immediately lay back down on his owner’s back like a furry blanket, as Viktor burrowed his face into Yuuri’s thighs.

Yuuri drew in a sharp gasp and decided not to let that distract him. His fingers resumed their slow caress of Viktor’s hair, this time focusing on the back of his head, messing up his parting and pulling random strands over his whorl and back again.

“Tell me about your parents. Your favourite tv show. How you felt about skating. Which coach was your favourite.”

“My parents divorced when I was four years old”, Viktor recited. “I watched several tv shows but I don’t really have a favourite. Skating is my favourite thing to do in the whole world. And my favourite coach is definitely Yakov Feltsman.”

Yuuri pulled on Viktor’s hair, hard.

“Viktor. I’m not a reporter, remember? Tell me something you’ve never told anyone. Tell me something you _felt_.”

Viktor huffed, then turned his head, facing away from Yuuri, and dislodging Yuuri’s fingers from his hair. Yuuri studied the exquisite lines of the Russian’s profile, brought into sharp relief by the cold light of the tv screen.

“When I was 13, I not only started training with Yakov, but moved in with him and his wife. They taught me everything I know, not only about skating, but how to behave in public, how to hold a knife and fork, how to pick myself up and try again, and again, and again. It was also the first time I felt like I had a family.”

Yuuri fell quiet, at a loss as to what to reply.

“But, your real parents....?” he finally asked.

“I don’t really feel like talking about them, Yuuri”, Viktor said, and his voice sounded cold.

But once he started talking, it was as if he couldn’t stop, and the words poured out of him, heavily accented, and piercing, like the angry cry of gulls:

“My father left when I was little, and since then I barely saw him. He hardly cared that he had a son, he never came to see me skate. Nothing I did was ever good enough for him, apparently. My mother took care of me and loved me in her own way, but she was still young when she divorced my dad and she wanted to have a life. She’d go out to drink and she’d bring her boyfriends home afterwards so I kept to my room and tried to be quiet and pretend I wasn’t there. I could sense that she wanted to pretend I didn’t exist for a while, so that was the best I could do for her. I could help her maintain the fantasy that she wasn’t burdened with a small child, for a little while longer. I couldn’t bring father back, but I could be a good boy and be quiet while her new boyfriend was there, and then the next, and the next – It didn’t matter anyway, they never seemed to stick around much. It must have been difficult for her, not to blame me for it. Those men may have wanted her, but not the baggage she carried. I was a burden to her, a reminder of a life she wanted to leave behind.”

“Oh no, Viktor....I’m sure that’s not true”, Yuuri whispered, horrified. He got more than he bargained for with this confession and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to comfort Viktor or knock some sense into him. “Your mother loved you. I’m sure she wanted the best for you and never regretted your existence.”

“She never saw my skating career as anything other than a foolish fantasy I’ve yet to grow out of”, Viktor replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not holding a pity party. I could’ve had it worse. My childhood wasn’t any better or worse than other people’s. My mother isn’t a bad person. I love her, and I know she loves me – perhaps that’s why it hurts so much, that I’ve never felt close to her. ”

Yuuri winced at Viktor’s words. He had never felt more thankful for his family. He wanted to run to his mom and dad right then in the middle of the night, and hug them to pieces.

...He was being ridiculous. He blinked, and focused again on Viktor.

“So, I guess... you won’t be visiting her when we go to Russia?” he tentatively asked, trying to make it into a joke.

Viktor laughed, hollow.

“Yeah, definitely not.”

“And your dad, he really...never came to see you skate?”

“No”, Viktor answered.

“I’m sure he must have”, Yuuri said, resolutely. He didn’t know why, but it felt very important to convince Viktor of this so he pressed on. “Suppose he did come, he was somewhere unnoticed in the crowd, and your performance moved him to tears, and he felt like the proudest father on earth as he watched you.”

“Yeah, right. Why didn’t he ever tell me, then?”

“Because he was ashamed”, Yuuri whispered. “Ashamed that he left you and your mom, when you needed him the most, ashamed that he didn’t provide for you like a father should, and that he never connected with you.”

Viktor was silent for a while, as if considering this seriously, and finally, a quiet sniff let Yuuri know that his words had registered.

“I never thought about this, Yuuri”, he said earnestly. “Do you really think that could be true?”

“I’m sure of it, Viktor!” Yuuri replied enthusiastically. Yuuri had realistically no idea whether Viktor’s dad wasn’t actually drunk in a ditch at the time when his son was winning his 5th GPF in a row, but he was ready to proclaim the heartfelt opposite, if it meant hearing Viktor’s voice quiver with that reverent vulnerable hope.

He resumed his caress of Viktor’s hair, this time lingering more on the scalp and less on the strands, like soothing a headache or wiping away a bad memory.

“Mmm”, Viktor mumbled. “You’re sweet, Yuuri.”

He rubbed his cheek against Yuuri’s lap like a cat and closed his eyes. Yuuri continued to stroke him, while giving half his attention to the movie which had just started on tv. Still, his eyes kept flickering back to Viktor’s face every once in a while, as if drawn by a magnet. His deep regular breathing told Yuuri that Viktor had fallen asleep. It felt comforting to watch him like this – when he wasn’t being watched back by those piercing blue eyes. He remembered watching Viktor sleep the first night he came to Hasetsu and took his life by storm – he remembered the panic, the awe, the overwhelming joy. He remembered being almost afraid of Viktor, and afraid of the strength of his feelings for this man. A fear he never really got over. Yuuri’s face darkened, and on the wings of that unpleasant thought, came the vivid image of Viktor pushed face down on the bed, a stranger’s hand entangled in his hair. The memory flashed briefly but vividly through Yuuri’s mind, enough to make his own fingers stumble on their path, then stop. He wondered if as a child Viktor had ever come out of his own room to curiously spy on his mother. Yuuri cringed, pushing that horrible thought firmly away. But then he wondered if Viktor was aware that he had been doing what his mother had done, trying to fill an emptiness in his life with brief affairs that never amounted to anything.

He sighed and shook his head slightly, as if to discard that train of thought entirely. He suddenly remembered they had to get up early tomorrow.

He tapped Viktor’s shoulder.

“Viktor, wake up.”

He didn’t budge. Yuuri gripped his shoulder and shook him, less considerately than he would’ve done, had that unexpected flashback not rattled him.

“I wanna go to my room and sleep. And you should hop on to your bed. Come on, it’s not far.”

“Hmmmm”, Viktor barely reacted, discontented at being moved. He allowed Yuuri to rise, but then plopped immediately back on the couch. He turned, facing away from the lights of the tv, grabbed Makkachin, hugging him close and promptly fell back asleep.

“Viktor, your bed is literally right here”, Yuuri complained. “Your back is gonna hurt tomorrow if you sleep on the couch.” Viktor didn’t budge and Yuuri sighed, reached an arm around him and pulled him up none too gently. Viktor didn’t help, a deadweight in Yuuri’s arms, but Yuuri saw, by the way the corner of his mouth slightly lifted as he was deposited unceremoniously on the bed, that this was exactly what Viktor had been angling for.

“You’re too much, really”, Yuuri huffed, pulling the blankets up around the dramatically unresponsive man. He rose to his feet, ready to leave, but then, on an impulse, surprising even himself, Yuuri bent abruptly and kissed the top of Viktor’s head, which still looked ruffled by his earlier attentions.

He didn’t linger to gauge Viktor’s reaction, but fled to his own room.

 

 

Being in Russia with Viktor was marginally unsettling – he could feel everyone’s eyes on him, assessing, unkindly, even downright hostile. They didn’t want Yuuri to win, they wanted him to crash and burn, so their self-fulfilling prophecy would come true and they’d get their national hero back. Yuuri logically assumed the Russian Skating Federation wasn’t exactly happy with Viktor’s decision to leave his competitive career and go off to coach a foreign skater, abruptly depriving them of the steady inflow of gold medals. But despite – or maybe because of everything, he felt ready, powerful even. Only the opinion of one person genuinely mattered to him, only a certain someone’s piercing, captive gaze, focused on him and him alone, could counteract the effect of all the others. A gaze he felt even now, burning through his costume as he waited for his turn to skate. Yuuri drew in a sharp breath, feeling the cold air sting his throat. He felt a little reckless, a little drunk on his odds and chances. He returned Viktor’s look out of the corner of his eye, and stared him down. They looked at each other steadily for a few seconds, and Viktor was, incredibly, starting to blush, when Yuuri whispered to him, intently:

“Lace up my skates.”

“Now?” Viktor gasped, not unsettled but intrigued.

“Yes, Viktor, right now. I want you to do it properly, like you do it for me in practice. For good luck.”

Viktor smiled at him, in tender assent.

“I want everyone to see you do it”, Yuuri added.

Viktor’s smile threatened to turn into a full-on grin, as he dropped down gracefully on one knee, and started lacing up Yuuri’s skates, his movements slow and deliberate.

Yuuri bit his lip, the image of Viktor kneeling before him in his immaculate suit, in a crowded stadium, turning him lightheaded with excitement, and turning his thoughts down an unexpectedly dirty path. He briefly imagined how Viktor would look in the very same position taking him into his mouth. There’d still be people watching, as Viktor took him deep, choking, tears glistering in his beautiful eyes as he stared up at Yuuri, who would be urging him on, against the platform, messing up his hair and thoroughly marking him in front of everyone. Eros mode on, Yuuri thought grimly.

“That’s right. Tie them up nice and good”, he murmured, slightly breathless, as he stared down at the ever-tempting whorl of Viktor’s hair. His hands gripped the platform behind him in an effort not to touch the man in front of him.

When Viktor looked up, his eyes were blazing and a slight smile was playing on his lips. Yuuri forced back a gasp, turning it into a quiet grunt, channeling all his love and attraction for this man into his mindset for the short program. He took a deep breath. It was on.

 

 

What a difference a day makes. Yuuri had felt on top of the world, and now he was fighting to hold it together. He was really a weakling – what was he doing – what was he doing with Viktor’s time? He was doing nothing, he was holding on to him selfishly and giving absolutely nothing in return. Pathetic, his mind screamed at him, and no part of him screamed back. The circle of self-hatred once started, it went on and on like a bad trip that fueled itself out of its own nightmare.

By the time he finished a wildly inconsistent free program, as conflicted and erratic as he felt, listening dimly to Yakov’s scolding, his earlier resolution cemented into ‘I’m not going to keep Viktor away from the world anymore’. He’ll only allow himself a little longer - just until the Grand Prix Final, and then – he would let Viktor go. And if Viktor was stubborn enough not to see it, he would have to be the one to decide for them both, for Viktor’s own good. It was insane to assume someone like him should feel entitled to hold on to someone like Viktor.

Viktor met him at the airport with Makkachin – Yuuri spared a joyful thought to the fact that Makkachin was alright, until he felt the burning need to fling himself into Viktor’s arms and never let go. As if sensing this, Viktor opened his arms to him – as he ran towards him, Yuuri took him in: he wasn’t smiling, and he wasn’t his usual cheerful self. In fact, he looked tired and sad, like someone who had been through the wringer. Affection and relief at seeing Yuuri was painted clearly across his features – and something else, too – as Yuuri buried his face into Viktor’s jacket, burrowing as close as he could, he tried to make sense of it: Was it regret? Was it guilt? Was it simply exhaustion? And why was Viktor holding him so tight? He was hanging on to Yuuri for dear life and it took Yuuri all his strength to dislodge him, so he could look him in the eye.

Maybe they weren’t deluding themselves at all – a small voice in Yuuri’s head dared to say, as Viktor kissed his fingers and smiled at him with warm devotion. Yuuri’s heart sped up, just as it did during another kiss, which seemed to have happened in another lifetime. Only right now, he was the one in a position of power, because Viktor looked vulnerable and weary and ready to take anything Yuuri was willing to give him. And Yuuri now knew that he would give him everything – if only for a little while.

 

 

They decided on a whim to take a day off and stay in Tokyo to do some sightseeing. Yuuri had suggested it – he didn’t want to go to Hasetsu just yet. Even if he did manage to make the cut for the GPF, he was ashamed of his close brush with failure and wanted to postpone the moment when he would have to explain it to those supporting him back at home. He was also afraid that his friends and family – knowing him so well, would read clearly on his face the decision he had reached and how much it cost him. He needed a day to relax and gather his thoughts. Viktor had enthusiastically approved of Yuuri’s suggestion and was happily taking in the sights and occasionally asking questions that Yuuri did his best to answer.

Towards noon, they were hungry but mostly thirsty and entered a general store to buy some soda, and ended up browsing their various choices.

Yuuri had picked something and was about to turn, when he noticed someone familiar entering the shop. Yuuri stared for a second before making an abrupt U-turn and pretended to stare interestedly at a magazine stand. Unfortunately it looked like the man who entered was also interested in the same area of the shop.

“Oh no”, Yuuri muttered.

“What is it?” Viktor reacted.

“Just....it’s someone I don’t feel like running into right now.”

Understatement. It wasn’t as if Yuuri didn’t like Akiro – he was one of the few people at college he was genuinely friendly with and they even shared a flat for a while, but Akiro always had a condescending attitude towards Yuuri, like he felt Yuuri wasn’t making the most of life. He was loud and brash, and sometimes that grated on Yuuri’s nerves and made him feel inadequate and dull by comparison.

“What, a friend?” Viktor said, interestedly, beginning to scan the shop with his eyes.

“No, don’t turn”, Yuuri hissed. “Stay here.”

“But I want –“

“No, you don’t”, Yuuri said. “Trust me.”

It had just occurred to him that introducing these two to each other would be tantamount to ‘fire meet gasoline.’ He was screwed.

Akiro was approaching them, and Yuuri was forced to admit defeat, as his college friend’s eyes met his and widened in surprise:

“Oh”, he exclaimed joyfully, upon sight of Yuuri. His eyes zoomed in on Viktor. “ _Oh_.”

“Hi!” Viktor said loudly, with a big smile.

Yuuri mentally rolled his eyes. Here we go, showtime.

“Konnichiwa, Aki”, he said, trying to smile.

“Konnichiwa, Yuuri. Fancy meeting you here! Who is this enticing creature you’re with?” he asked in Japanese.

“Viktor is my coach”, Yuuri answered pointedly in English. “Viktor Nikiforov, this is Hayashi Akiro. He and I went to college together.”

“And we were room mates too, for a while! The stories I could tell...Very pleased to meet you, Viktor - hey wait a second, I know you! You’re –“

Yuuri blanched and slid right next to Akiro to pinch his rib as hard as he could.

“ – the guy in Yuuri’s posters! Hah! I thought I recognized your pretty face.”

Yuuri closed his eyes tightly and fervently begged the earth to open and swallow him up.

When he opened them again, Viktor was smiling politely, and not showing any hint of surprise or mockery.

“Yes, I am a professional skater, but I’m coaching Yuuri now”, he said evenly.

“Oooh! And is Yuuri a good student, then?”

“He’s great. He goes above and beyond my expectations –“

“Attababy, Yuuri! I always knew you had it in you!” He enveloped Yuuri into a tight one-armed hug.

Yuuri smiled, allowing himself a small sigh of relief, and returned the hug:

“Aki, it was great seeing you again, but we have to get going...”

“Sure, but this chance meeting has to be picked up! How about we catch up over dinner, Yuuri? And I’d love it if you could join us”, he turned to Viktor. “Please, I insist! The three of us – I’ll make the reservations. I know a fantastic place, I’ve taken some clients there only just yesterday and got them to sign an important deal in no time. I feel like celebrating with an old friend – and a new friend!”

“Uh, I don’t really think-“

“I absolutely won’t take no for an answer! I’ll call you and come pick you up around 8.”

 

“We still haven’t celebrated properly you qualifying for the Grand Prix Final”, Viktor said later, as they left the shop. “And your friend seems like a nice guy.”

“He is”, Yuuri agreed, quelling the urge to remark that the way in which he managed to qualify wasn’t really a cause for celebration. “He’s a good guy, really, and he was a good friend, supportive and helpful – but he’s a bit of a .. um - risk-taker? Works himself into a stupour during the day, binges on starbucks to keep him going and at night he’s a party animal, like really into rave music and a regular in the nightclubs, including the more low-key ones, you know...”

“Oh”, Viktor said.

“Yeah. And I think he’s into the whole PnP scene, although he’s never said it outright to me, but I could guess by some of the things he said... at the very least, I’m pretty sure he’s using, but he always denied it when I called him out on it.”

“Wow”, Viktor reacted.

“Yes, it’s sad. He looks handsome as ever but how much more can his body take before this lifestyle catches up with him? He never listened when I tried to tell him to tone it down. Instead he tried to drag me along with him to show me how great it all was, and there were times when he succeeded but I never could keep up with him and I always regretted it in the morning...”

“Huh...why?” Viktor asked. “You never – I mean, you didn’t....?”

“.... Drugs and unprotected sex? My mama raised me better than that, Viktor. And me and him were never in a relationship, if that’s what you’re wondering. He always saw me as a little brother he wanted to impress. No, but I ended up drinking too much and acting like a fool. I always woke up with a pounding headache and feeling like my insides had been rearranged, and I really don’t feel like repeating the experience any time soon – Viktor, you’re not looking so good, are you coming down with something? One more reason we should just stay in tonight and rest.”

“No, I – I really really think going out tonight will be good for me. Please. Come on, Yuuri.”

Yuuri sighed.

“If we go out with him, he’s gonna start drinking and get into the mood where he wants to go out and party – so please, be careful not to indulge him. I know that when you drink, you’re easily swayed to stupid ideas, so please. I don’t want to have to carry you out of shady nightclubs at 3 am in the morning. I’d like a quiet night, please.”

“Yuu-uuri. What if I’m the one to carry _you_ out of those shady nightclubs? And anyway, where’s your sense of fun?” Viktor winked, but Yuuri only favoured him with a withering look.

“Left it in my other pants”, he deadpanned.

“Along with those posters??” Viktor chanted.

Yuuri froze. It would’ve been too good....for Viktor to never bring this up again.

“Yuu-uuri”, Viktor sing-songed again. “Come on, it’s not like I didn’t already suspect! But it’s nice to have it confirmed!”

He grinned happily, but thankfully left it at that.

Except for that one other comment he made was when they finally managed to hail a cab and Viktor settled comfortably with his head against the back seat, closing his eyes.

“You love me”, he declared serenely. “That’s okay. I love you too.”

Yuuri tried to keep a straight face but a smile stubbornly pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“Please, Yuuri. Pretty please.”

“Alright”, Yuuri finally gave in. “We can go to dinner with him, but just the dinner. If he asks us anywhere else, I’m refusing for the both of us.”

“Deal”, Viktor said, happily.

 

 

“So, are you two together?” Akiro asked over dessert.

The conversation had been lively but relaxing up until this point, Akiro knew how to be charming as well as a good listener when he wanted to, they talked about his business and about figure skating, and congratulated Yuuri on making it to the Grand Prix Finals. Yuuri felt warmth and happiness envelop him as he listened to his friends chatting about his prospects and favouring him to win. They had been drinking, but not too much, barely having finished a bottle of wine among the three of them, while partaking of the delicious food. Yuuri was idly sipping at his own glass when that question had come out of the blue and he struggled to swallow quickly so that he could answer:

“No no no. Haha. No.” He made a face as if to say ‘ridiculous’, then added again for good measure: “No.”

Akiro raised an eyebrow, frowning slightly at him:

“Ok. I’m sorry for assuming.”

Akiro turned his eyes on Viktor, who was staring at his lemon meringue pie a little too intently, and seemed to stubbornly resist being dragged into that particular conversation. Yuuri chanced a sideways look at him as well, and saw that the corners of the Russian’s mouth were curling down in a distinctly unhappy expression. Damnit, Yuuri cursed himself. Why had he said that, he wondered – when in fact they _were_ , by all intents and purposes, together. He thought it might have been because of the particular way Akiro had phrased it – not ‘together’ as in ‘I want to grow old with you in a cottage by the sea’ - together; but just the ‘hey I just saw met you and this is crazy but here’s my number’ kind of together. But then again, that would be Akiro’s only definition of ‘together’ and Yuuri should have known that.

“It’s no problem”, Yuuri answered mechanically.

“I see”, Akiro remarked, still looking apprasingly at Viktor, who had started eating his pie with about as much enthusiasm as a five year old scolded into eating his vegetables.

Then he judiciously changed the subject to talk about the upcoming holidays. The small incident was put behind them and gradually their conversation picked up again.

When finally Akiro asked for the bill, which he insisted on taking care of himself, Yuuri heard the words he had been lowkey dreading all evening:

“So, how about we move this party somewhere else? The night is still young.”

“Where do you have in mind?” Viktor asked, before Yuuri could even open his mouth.

“We really can’t”, Yuuri said, pointedly. “I guess I have to be the responsible one here, if my coach isn’t, but we can’t afford to waste all night. We have to be on a plane tomorrow back to Hasetsu with time enough to put in some practice.”

“Yuuri is right”, Viktor said regretfully. “We were only supposed to be in Tokyo for one day.”

“And I have to be at work tomorrow at 8 am”, Akiro said cheerfully. Don’t worry, you’ll be fresh and ready tomorrow. Nothing a cup of strong espresso won’t cure!”

“For you maybe”, Yuuri said. “Thanks a lot for the offer, but I’m afraid we have to turn you down this time, I’m sorry.”

“Apologies accepted, Yuuri, but don’t speak for your Russian friend. I’m sure he’s curious to see what Tokyo nightlife has to offer, and I’d be more than happy to show him.” He draped an arm over the back of the chair nonchalantly. “What do you say, Viktor? I’ll have you back at the hotel whenever you want to call it a night.”

‘You son of a bitch’, Yuuri mentally telegraphed Akiro with an open glare. He saw the message was received loud and clear as Akiro’s mouth curved into a small smile. ‘You have no right to complain’, his smile seem to say. ‘You painted yourself into a corner, Yuuri’.

“Well, alright”, Viktor said, and shrugged.

Yuuri’s mouth tightened in a displeased grimace:

“Fine,” he said. “If you oversleep tomorrow, I’ll be on that plane without you.”

“Fine”, Viktor answered. He met Yuuri’s eyes, and Yuuri was startled to see that there was no teasing challenge in Viktor’s look. He realized he had been expecting Viktor to be his usual impish self when thwarting Yuuri’s wishes, but that look was unexpectedly serious, and maybe a little sad. He’s not still upset about me saying we’re not together.... surely he can understand why I told Akiro that. Yuuri worried his lower lip between his teeth, then as they made their way outside the restaurant together, and Akiro went a little ahead of them, Yuuri caught Viktor’s sleeve and whispered to him: “Don’t take any pills or drinks from anyone. Try to drink only stuff from bottles that are opened in front of you.”

Viktor was still pouting, but he laughed incredulously at Yuuri’s words: “I’m not new to the scene, Yuuri, and I’m older than you, remember?” Then he added, sardonically: “Don’t worry, I won’t drink so much as to start pole dancing or something.” He looked quickly at Yuuri, as if daring him to react, but Yuuri just shrugged: “Yeah. Whatever,” he answered. Viktor faltered for a moment, as if suddenly unsure, and Yuuri thought he might take advantage to convince him not to go after all. But they were already outside and Akiro was approaching them, telling Yuuri that he called him a cab.

“Have fun”, Yuuri told them, plastering a smile on his face as he climbed inside, and they waved back at him.

The cab had barely driven off before the regrets of not going along with them were piling on top of Yuuri.

Once he reached their hotel room, he snuggled with Makkachin in his bed and tried to sleep. Easier said than done. Not even the pup’s comforting warmth, and Yuuri’s gratefulness for the fact that he was alright, after having given them all such a scare, was enough to distract him from his thoughts. Yuuri soon realized there was not a chance he’d fall asleep until Viktor returned. As an hour turned into two, then three, he glanced more and more frequently at his phone. He didn’t want to call Viktor and check up on him, because that meant that he didn’t trust him, but the temptation was great. He cruelly reminded himself that his decision of letting Viktor go after the GPF meant that he should start getting used to this. Still he couldn’t help wondering what Viktor was doing, if he was enjoying himself. Did the two of them speak about him? Yuuri didn’t know which thought he found more unbearable – that they discussed him, or that they had no word to spare for him. It was blindingly obvious that Akiro liked Viktor and probably was glad to get him alone so he could put the moves on him. Yuuri knew his old friend was a handsome and charming man, but Viktor had _promised._ As the the three hours turned into four, Yuuri’s thoughs took a more alarmist path – he began to worry that he had left Viktor alone in a place where he didn’t know the language with a man who was renowned for his irresponsible behaviour. Reasonable counter arguments such as ‘Viktor has a phone and he could call me’, or ‘Viktor is an adult, who is older and arguably more worldly-wise than me’, were dismissed at that late hour as ‘not good enough’; and as the minutes ticked on, his mind forced him to entertain progressively more fantastic scenarios – “what if he gets hurt, what if he overdoses, what hospital will they even take him to, what if he dies and I’m not there, it will be my fault, what if he dies and the last thing I told him was ‘have fun.’”

This was crazy.

But being an anxious mess meant that you recognized how crazy your thought process was and yet find it impossible to get sidetracked.

The sound of a key in the door almost made Yuuri scream, he was so high-strung.

Viktor entered the room, apparently surprised to find the lights on, and Yuuri still awake.

“So...how was it? Did you have fun?” Yuuri asked, his voice rising high with nerves.

“Yeah”, Viktor replied. “It _was_ fun, actually. Your friend is a really cool guy.”

He didn’t look or sound drunk, Yuuri noticed. He looked relaxed.

“So, what did you do?” Yuuri insisted, feeling tears rise up in his eyes.

“We talked. We danced, mostly. I wish you could have been there. The nightclub we went to really is amazing. All those people, all that energy – the darkness, the flicker of lights and the loud music, loud enough to drown your thoughts. I can see how someone might get addicted to that, so I can understand Akiro. I asked him about the drugs, by the way, and he said he used at one point, but then he stopped when it began to affect his work, and now he’s clean. He also told me he stopped picking up random strangers after he woke up one morning and his wallet had gone missing.”

“Ha”, Yuuri snorted. “Serves him right. But I suspect he only told you these things because he liked you and thought he might have a chance with you.” Yuuri watched Viktor carefully, waiting for a confirmation or a denial.

Viktor answered immediately:

“He tried to kiss me, but I told him that I was in love with you, and you were still working through that. He said he suspected as much. He told me to take care of you. He said he’d call you, by the way, to wish you luck before the Grand Prix Final.”

The tears did well up in Yuuri’s eyes this time, and he sobbed.

“Yuuri, what is it?” Viktor asked, face falling with worry, coming up to Yuuri but not daring to touch him.

But Yuuri flung himself in Viktor’s arms and hugged him close.

“I’m sorry”, he wailed pathetically.

“I’m sorry too, Yuuri. I shouldn’t have gone without you. It was childish.”

“No, I’m glad you went, I’m glad you had fun, and I’m glad you – came back to me.”

“Of course I came back. I promised, didn’t I? And I wanted to. The only place where I wanted to end up tonight is right here with you.”

“Hmmpf”, Yuuri sobbed. Then he broke their embrace and moved hesitantly towards Viktor’s bed, while Viktor watched him carefully. “Can we – sleep together tonight? Just sleep.”

Viktor’s face lit up instantly.

“Yes, Yuuri, I’d love that.”

He started unbuttoning his jacket, quickly.

“Let me just take a quick shower – “

“Forget it”, Yuuri said. “It’s late enough.”

“But I’m sweaty and gross.”

“Come here already.”

 

They were half asleep, when Yuuri remembered something.

“What did you say, when Akiro told you to take care of me?” he whispered into the darkness.

Viktor nuzzled Yuuri’s hair, tightening his arms around him:

“I said I already was, and always will”, he murmured, contently, and kissed the back of Yuuri’s head.


	4. Chapter 4

Never had Viktor been more attuned to Yuuri’s wants and needs than in the wake of the Grand Prix Final. The fact that Yuuri’s most important need was just Viktor being quietly and faithfully beside him had been foremost in Viktor's mind since the China Cup, but sometimes Yuuri could sense Viktor was getting fidgety because he felt he wasn’t doing enough for Yuuri.

It was the day of the short program and Yuuri was feeling mellow. He wasn’t keyed up like he usually was before going out onto the ice and acting out Eros, he felt like cuddling with Viktor under the covers. He felt domestic. He could sense Viktor felt the same – Yuuri caught the older man staring at his ring sometimes with a starry-eyed look, admiring the way it gleamed on his finger. The look of happiness on Viktor’s face in those moments, and the knowledge that he made it happen filled Yuuri’s heart with joy, but it also made him ache in new and strange ways. It was unsettling, the prospect of such happiness lasting. Yuuri hadn’t forgotten his decision to let Viktor go after the GPF.

This was a train of thought which wasn’t helping. He huffed quietly, and turned to stare out the hotel room window. Viktor looked up immediately, and seemed to sense Yuuri’s melancholy mood. Immediately, he seemed to go into fidgety mode.

“Yuuri. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

“Mmm. No. I’m just – I feel kind of _snug_.”

Yuuri hoped that word in English meant what he thought it meant, he wasn’t exactly sure. Viktor frowned slightly, as if he was also unsure.

“Well...”, he hesitated. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, usually”, Yuuri said. “But not if I have to get onto the ice soon and show some fighting spirit.”

Viktor nodded wisely:

“I get it. It’s like Yakov always told me: ‘A hunting dog never runs fast with a full stomach’.”

“That’s a rather... strange thing to say”, Yuuri snorted. “You never mentioned he was starving you”, he joked.

Viktor smiled, acknowledging how it must have sounded, and explained:

“He meant that people who have their whims catered to, creature comforts, that kind of thing, are not motivated to fight anymore, but adversity and poor conditions can help you become stronger.”

“I see”, Yuuri said, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds... pitiless but effective.”

“Even bad things like frustration and loss can be used and channeled into one’s performance,” Viktor recited.

“I have a new understanding for Yurio in light of this”, Yuuri deadpanned.

Viktor laughed in genuine amusement.

“Pretty much.” He came up to Yuuri where he was standing by the window and took one of Yuuri’s hands in both of his, gently caressing the knuckles: “But you’re not like this, Yuuri. For you I think a comfortable environment is key to success. So don’t be troubled.”

“I just feel...not so motivated right now.”

“Oh? Even after I told you that we’d get married if you win gold?”

Yuuri smiled, although he couldn’t help blushing a little. They both knew Viktor had said that only to rile up everyone at the table, and divert attention from their matching rings. The rings meant so much more to Yuuri than engagement, or even marriage. They were a gift, a promise and a lasting bond that transcended any sort of physical bond. Wherever Viktor will be, he will have Yuuri’s ring, and his heart. He shrugged off those thoughts now, and focused on answering Viktor’s query.

“I need to get into the mindset for the program,” he explained.

“What do you need, Yuuri?”

Yuuri hesitated. Was Viktor asking as a coach or as something more? The lines were blurring. The lines had always been blurred. Idol, coach, friend, seducer, worshiped, feared, _loved_ , always loved, Viktor.

“Yuuri”, Viktor repeated. “What do you need?”

“You. ‘Need you.”

“You have me. What do you need me to do?”

“Just...”

“Do you want me on my knees for you? Like we did back in Russia? You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I liked-“

“Or do you want me to style your hair, make you feel special. I love that, I love playing with your hair, Yuuri.”

“Mmmm.”

“I could help you get dressed. Zip up your costume. Smooth it down on your body. Make sure it fits you like a second skin...that it reveals your beauty for all to see.”

“Oh, that’s – ha. Viktor, it was your costume to begin it.”

“Yes”, Viktor purred. “I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to see you wear it, and wear it so well. My beautiful boy.”

Yuuri shivered, screwing his eyes tightly shut:

“You need to stop this. You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I thought I was helping you get into the right mindset for the program?” Viktor said, with mock innocence.

“There’s a fine line between getting me worked up, motivated and...”

“And?”

“N-nevermind. I don’t want you to do anything right now, _I_ want to – I want to touch you. This time. If you’ll let me.”

Viktor stared at him so bewildered, that for a second, Yuuri was tempted to fly out of the room and pretend this never happened. But then the pale features of his coach became slowly inflamed with the most vivid blush that Yuuri had ever seen on him. He looked – flustered. It made Yuuri smile.

“Yes, Yuuri”, Viktor finally said, warmly. “Of course.”

“I just – just a little. Okay?”

“Please. Yes.”

Yuuri’s hands flew upwards like sparrows released from a trap and framed Viktor’s face slowly and wonderingly. He didn’t have anything dirty in mind, and Viktor seemed on board with anything and everything. Minding Yuuri’s request of not doing anything, he stood frozen on the spot, for fear of breaking the spell.

Yuuri ran his fingers in a caress down the Russian’s cheeks and cupped his neck, pressing both palms along the column to squeeze slightly, then moved down to the shoulders and collarbone, popping a shirt button along the way for better access. His breathing sped up. Viktor tentatively reached up to help, starting to undo another button, but Yuuri pushed his hand aside. He changed direction abruptly, reaching up to trace the contour of Viktor’s mouth. He poked at the elegant cupid’s bow, and rubbed the pads of his fingers along the bottom lip, testing its softness. Viktor parted his lips on a sigh. Yuuri’s eyes flew to his – their gazes met and held. Slowly, almost fearfully, Yuuri slid a finger inside Viktor’s mouth. Viktor licked it gently, tongue curling around it in a sensual massage and Yuuri’s pupils dilated, eyelids growing heavy. He coiled his arm around Viktor, underneath his shirt, his palm pressing possessively at the small of his back. Viktor’s skin felt so hot to the touch – Yuuri rubbed little circles there, fascinated, imagining the smooth skin might carry their imprint. Viktor suckled softly at his finger, moaning slightly, and Yuuri gasped – the soft, hazy feeling of pleasure in the beginning had peaked into a dangerous level of arousal, that made it so easy to forget why they were doing this and get carried away.... Viktor suddenly gripped Yuuri’s wrist to force the younger man’s finger still deeper into his mouth, Yuuri felt teeth run gently along the length of it and then his digit was being sucked in earnest, as Viktor hollowed his cheeks, azure eyes narrowed, staring Yuuri down. Yuuri’s legs went weak at the sensation – and he fought to wrestle his hand out of Viktor’s grip. Viktor was reluctant to let go and Yuuri’s finger slid out of his mouth with an audible pop.

“That’s a bit too much”, Yuuri murmured, and pressed his palm over Viktor’s mouth. “I run this show.”

His touch trailed upwards underneath the shirt, fingers splayed possessively over Viktor’s back. He pressed closer, staring right into Viktor’s widened eyes.

“You want to suck me off? Is that what you were trying to tell me just now?” Yuuri asked, in a sultry tone, and watched as Viktor’s pupils doubled in size. “If I told you that’s what I needed to get in the perfect mood for the program, would you do it?”

“Mmmmpf”, Viktor reacted, muffled by the palm over his mouth. He nodded eagerly. “Mmmmnn”, he added on a pleading note.

Yuuri smirked.

“I’ve thought about this, you know. When I told you to get down and tie my laces in front of all those people who worship you as their national hero. It was exhilarating. I imagined what it would be like to fuck your mouth and come all over your pretty face.”

“Nggghdd”, Viktor whined, eyes fixed on Yuuri, spellbound.

Yuuri removed his palm from Viktor’s mouth.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“I said: Oh god.”

“Is that everything you want to say?”

“That’s so....oh, Yuuri – that’s so dirty”, Viktor said, on a hushed, reverent tone.

“You love it”, Yuuri said, automatically.

“I adore it”, Viktor agreed – he blushed even deeper, and Yuuri watched in fascination as the blush spread all the way to his pale neck. “I want to – please let me. I want to do it now, Yuuri.”

He sounded wrecked.

Yuuri closed his eyes tightly, shaking himself out of it, steeling himself for the almost physically painful refusal.

“I don’t need you to do it, Viktor. I just need to know that you _would_ do it.”

Actual tears threatened to spill from Viktor’s eyes at being denied.

“Please, Yuuri”, he pleaded. “I’ll make you feel so good.”

“I don’t doubt it”, Yuuri said. “But a hunting dog doesn’t run fast on a full stomach, remember?”

He felt so powerful, it was maddening. He brushed at Viktor’s eyes, glistening with their unshed offering, and watched the thick eyelashes flutter discontentedly.

“You’re lovely. Sometimes I feel like my entire world flutters around you and focuses on you. I have no prior experience with this feeling. I can’t quantify it, or name it. But I do know it makes me strong. It makes me believe I can win. I’ll win, Viktor, I have to. I’ll get that gold, and I’ll lay it at your feet. That’s all that matters. Your time on me won’t be wasted.”

Viktor had listened to his speech with a slight frown on his face.

Yuuri sealed Viktor’s lips together with the tip of his index finger, to stop him from replying, then said, on a different tone:

“ Well. I think it’s time we started preparing.”

 

~

Yuuri couldn’t stop thinking. When Viktor put the ring on Yuuri’s trembling finger in that church, he was supposed to cast a magic spell to get his anxiety-prone student to stop thinking, and just _feel it_ , didn’t he? Why didn’t it work? Was it a sign that things between them weren’t working anymore?

His vision blurred. Was it all only pretend? Was he so affection-starved he had imagined everything between them? Was he so desperate to prove the world that he was not a loser, that he had brought himself all the way here to the GPF on the wings of a dream?

Yuuri couldn’t stop thinking, wild, ridiculous thoughts, circling themselves like hyenas, fencing him in with their own dark magic, drowning out the glittering hope of his good luck charm.

_I’m here, this is finally it, I’m here, but so is everyone else, everyone who is so good, so motivated, they’re better than me, they’ve proven it time and time again, I must be flawless, I can’t allow myself any mistakes, I’ll nail that quad flip if it’s the last thing I do, Viktor please watch me, this is the last time Viktor watches me skate this program, I must make it memorable for him, for us, *there goes the quad flip oh no *hand down* I must not lose my charms, I must seduce him but I feel weak, he’s already seduced me and I am unworthy of him, I am unworthy to win, this is not the mindset of a champion, pull yourself together, goddamnit, focus....the ice feels soft today, I’m sinking, the ice is breaking under my feet, something is weighing my down, I feel sick._

_There are so many people who want this._

_There are so many people who want Viktor._

_When did that thought stop being empowering?_

_I'm all wrapped up in bitterness._

_The ice is breaking under my feet._

_I can’t breathe._

 

The program was over.

Yuuri collapsed, finally allowing himself the release of the disappointment he felt.

He was trembling when he picked himself up and trudged towards the kiss and cry. He felt numb in Viktor’s embrace.

 

_How did that line go?_ Yuuri thought. _‘The well-fed dog doesn’t win the race?’ Well, then I’ll really starve myself!_

 

_~_

“You’re quiet, Yuuri”, Viktor told him later in the hotel. “Are you upset about placing fourth? Don’t beat yourself up about it. We took a chance on that quad flip, changed the jumps, it didn’t work out – we’ll know better next time.”

“I’m not upset about that”, Yuuri answered immediately. “In fact, I’m not upset at all.”

“Well, good.” Viktor said a bit unsure. “Because you can still catch up.”

“Viktor”, Yuuri said – and there it was again, that serious expression which unsettled Viktor so much. “Let’s end this. After the final – let’s end this. I don’t want to rein in your potential any longer, by having to be my coach. I want you to know how grateful I am for all you’ve done for me. And part of that gratitude is me letting you go.”

“Are you.... breaking up with me?”

Yuuri was taking short shallow breaths, which Viktor knew it meant he was close to an anxiety attack, but his resolution did not waver.

“I can’t selfishly hang on to you any longer. I’ve made my decision. You have taught me, helped me, so much. But I can’t possibly ground you in my life, when you could be so much more. And I’ve been watching you – I’ve seen how you look at the others. You want to return to the ice, reclaim your titles.”

Viktor stared at him, stunned:

“Yuuri, you got it all wrong. That’s the _last_ thing I want to do.”

“Even so. You could inspire so many more people – who are worthier than me.”

“Yuuri”, Viktor sighed. He leaned towards him and ran a gentle hand through Yuuri’s hair. “You are nothing if not worthy. Do you have any idea how much you mean to me? I-“

“I know you care about me. I know it”, Yuuri interrupted him, and he was calm now, and so his words were all the more frightening to Viktor. “And I care about you, deeply. Which is why I’m ending it. This is right. It’s for the best. You’ll see it’s for the best.”

“For the best?” Viktor whispered. “What about what I want? I don’t – “

Viktor looked around, confused. He felt lost, like a child, he stared at the room and at Yuuri like he couldn’t believe he wasn’t living a nightmare.

“I’ll always have you in my heart”, Yuuri continued. “This ring I’ll always wear will forever be a reminder of you. Remember what you told me once, ‘even if I’m not here, I’ll always be with you in spirit.’”

“But –“, Viktor struggled to speak, but as if Yuuri’s words had released a dam inside his mind, the tears started falling from his stunned eyes, “but that was _then,_ Yuuri, when I had no choice but to leave you! Now I do have a choice and I choose to stay with you. Please don’t take that choice away from me!”

“Oh, I knew you’d take it like this”, Yuuri said, wearily. He rubbed at his eyes, as if he might start crying too any second. “This is very painful for me as well. But listen to me. Think about it. One year – two years down the line, where would you be? Still wasting your talent on me, and me promising that this time I’ll get gold, and still fail every single time. Meanwhile, you’d have to listen to the sneers of people who tell you that you should never have taken me on, and that it’s too late for you to return to competitive skating now, and that you’re essentially wasting your life. And they’d be _right_! I don’t want this future, I don’t want it for me, I don’t want it for you. So I’m ending it. I’ve decided to retire after this competition, regardless of whether I win gold or not. It has been the most intense period of my life, I have never felt more alive. Let’s not end on a sad note. You should know that you were the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m forever grateful. And you’re always welcome to visit Hasetsu when you feel like it, and skate in the Ice Castle, I know how much you love that place.”

Yuuri let out a shaky breath at the end of this speech, and looked at Viktor with luminous eyes and a tremulous smile on his face.

Viktor had turned awfully pale, shock and disbelief painted all over his features, tears spilling from his eyes at an alarming rate.

“Please don’t cry”, Yuuri said, cringing. “Should I just kiss you or something?” he tried to joke, reminding Viktor of his own words to him some time ago.

It was the wrong thing to say. Yuuri knew it even as his mouth went ahead and said it, regardless. Viktor made a wounded disbelieving sound like something sharp had pierced him to the bone, his face crumpled in misery and he crumpled the hem of his robe in tight fists.

Then, gradually, as Yuuri watched him, afraid to step in, afraid to touch him, Viktor slowly mastered himself.

He stood up, and faced Yuuri, who had remained sitting on the bed, seemingly afraid of his reaction. Viktor took Yuuri’s hand in both of his, then pressed it. The ring left an indent in Yuuri’s palm.

“And I am grateful to you as well, Yuuri”, Viktor said, his tone warm but even. “You have taught me so many things, about life and love.”

He smiled at Yuuri, who froze as he looked up at him. Yuuri knew that smile – it was the less than genuine smile Viktor presented to anyone he knew only superficially – it was his ‘public smile’.

Yuuri swallowed hard. It was painful, but then again he always knew it would be. It was alright. It was happening. This was the price he had to pay.

“Get some rest,” Viktor told him.

Yuuri didn’t question it when Viktor changed into his suit and slipped outside of the room.

 

 ~

Viktor crashed into Chris at the hotel entrance.

“Hey, hey”, Chris said, gripping his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry. Yes. Just going out.”

“Lovers’ tiff?” Chris inquired, taking in Viktor’s red-rimmed eyes and pale, crumpled features. “Hard to catch up from 4th place.”

“Ha”, Viktor smiled in pretend cheerfulness. “No. Nothing like that. Not a tiff. A very polite good bye.”

“Huh??” Chris reacted, aghast. “You’re joking.”

Viktor suddenly didn’t feel like pretending anymore.

“I’m not joking. Look, I don’t feel like myself, I-“

“Want to come up to my room, talk about it?”

“No, I want to get some air.”

“I’ll come with. If you want me to.”

“Yes. Please. Thank you, Chris.  But weren’t you doing something? Aren’t you supposed to get ready for tomorrow? I don’t want to-“

“The best way to get ready for tomorrow is try to forget about tomorrow, for a while. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Now. Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere with alcohol.”

“Ah. Well, you’re in luck. I know several such fine establishments in Barcelona.”

“Just take me somewhere where I don’t have to think.”

 

 ~

“He wants to let me go ‘for my own good’,” Viktor said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“That is such a load of crap.”

“I _know_.” Viktor took another shot. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Where did he get that idea?” Chris asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe he feels I didn’t focus enough on him. I was sitting in the stands, Chris, and I watched the competition for the first time since I don’t remember when. You were fantastic, by the way. I sat and watched you, and I’ve had so much fun – just enjoying you guys skate, and not having to worry about topping that.”

Chris nodded.

“A change of perspective.”

“Sort of. But also I think – it may sound cheesy but I think it’s Yuuri who taught me how to really _feel it –_ feel the pure joy and excitement of it. I couldn’t help but see things from his point of view recently. He has a wide-eyed wonder about him, a purity and a quiet strength that he is blissfully unaware of. But I can’t help but draw my own strength and happiness from it. I don’t wanna let him go, Chris. Not as a coach, not as a man. I want to help him achieve all his dreams and I want to be there with him, every step of the way.”

“Have you tried telling him that?”

“I tried. He just – kept pushing me away. Said it was for the better. Yuuri can be really stubborn when he wants to be.”

“Please, don’t start crying, Viktor. Here, have another shot – have mine, I’m gonna stick to beer, I have a medal to win tomorrow after all.”

“You’re a great friend, Chris. Have I ever told you that?”

“Oh wow. There, there.”

Viktor had flung himself into Chris’ arms, face planted into his jacket, his shoulders shaking with sobs. Chris held him patiently.

“Shhh. You can drool and slobber all over my new jacket, what else are friends for?” He was quiet for a few seconds, rubbing slow circles along Viktor’s spine. “It’s a bit unsettling, however, seeing you like this. I’m used to seeing you so perfectly composed. Poor Viktor. A broken heart is a pitiful thing... don’t I know it. How could Yuuri do this to you? D’you want me to beat him up for you?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“No”, Viktor mumbled, seriously. “It’s his choice. I respect that. Not gonna take that from him. I just need to slow down and think rationally. It’s not the end of the world. I’ve gotten too involved. Sometimes it’s good to take a step back.”

He raised his face, which was bruised-red and blotched with tears, and tried to look determined.

Chris chuckled a little.

“Not that ice prince routine again, Viktor, it doesn’t suit you anymore. If there’s one thing this experience should teach you, it’s that running emotionless through life is not the way to go.”

Viktor smiled.

“It’s exactly the way to go”, he said quietly. “But nevermind that. I don’t want to think about it anymore. I just want to have a good time now. Okay let’s see. I’m buying, right. Beer for you, yes?”

“Sure”, Chris said, eyeing him a little sadly.

 

“How are things with you and Adolphe?” Viktor asked.

“Uncertain”, Chris answered. “We keep dancing around each other, if you’ll pardon the pun, but I don’t think either of us is ready for that level of commitment. We have always worked well together. But that still doesn’t mean we’re a good match.”

“The program he coreographed for you is nothing if not a declaration. A rather bold one, too.”

Chris gave a fleeting smile:

“It’s not his passion that I doubt.”

“What is it, then?” Viktor asked curiously.

“Just the practicalities of having to settle down and make it work. He has his own life, and several other people vying for his attentions. I have my own life and ambitions.”

“It’s tough.”

“It’s lonely.”

“True”, Viktor said, then inched closer to Chris, laying a hand on his thigh.

“Smooth”, Chris said, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Viktor.”

“So, do you want to go back to the hotel?” Viktor asked, trying to sound suggestive.

“If you wanna leave, we’ll go, sure. If it’s an euphemism for sex, then the answer is: you’re out of your mind.”

“I know you’ve watched me for a long time, I know you’ve wanted me.”

Chris looked at Viktor thoughtfully.

“I was never sure if I was infatuated with you as such or just the idea of you. Viktor Nikiforov, the symbol – the living legend, the inspiration. But then we’ve become friends and one thing became separate from the other, and much less important than our friendship.”

Viktor nodded sadly.

“I appreciate your honesty. And your friendship.”

“In any case, you ridiculous Russian man: I wouldn’t take you up on that offer now even if I was sure of my feelings for you.”

“Why not?” Viktor frowned. “I know I must look like crap, but”, he mused self consciously, and rubbed at his swollen eyes, “...hurts my feelings”, he mumbled.

Chris laughed out loud.

“I’ve had worse”, he declared cheerfully. “Don’t worry, Viktor, even at your lowest point, you don’t drop below a 9. But I’m not such a mook as to sleep with someone who’s so in love with someone else it hurts. What would be the point of it?”

“Because sex is fun?”

“Nah. Sex without feelings on both sides isn’t fun”, Chris declared.

“Wow. I had no idea you were so old-fashioned.”

“I’m not old-fashioned. I just don’t like muddles. And besides, I’m rather fond of the idea of keeping you behind a glass case in my mind – unachievable, unattainable.”

Viktor rolled his eyes.

“Whatever gets you off, I guess”, he smirked.

They laughed, and the tension dissipated.

“Come on, crazy Russian man”, Chris said, hauling Viktor up comically by his elbows. “Let’s get back.”

“You go”, Viktor said. “I’m gonna hang around here a bit more.”

“I’ll stay with you then.”

“Nah, you got stuff to do, you don’t have to babysit me.”

“I really don’t mind. It’s not like sitting in a bar and drinking beer is such a hardship. Of course seeing you mope is another thing, but I guess I can find it in me to bear it once in a while.”

Viktor sighed, then decided to be as blunt as possible:

“That’s really nice of you. But unless you wanna tag team, then we’re gonna have to part ways.”

Chris stared at him.

“Are you seriously gonna....? This isn’t a good idea, Viktor”, he said, without a hint of mockery. “This isn’t the solution. You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning. Or you’re gonna start hating yourself tonight, and probably end up crying during sex and traumatize the hell out of some poor dude.”

“So you’re an expert on one night stands now? I thought you didn’t go for this sort of thing.”

“It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to foresee this.”

Viktor waved a hand in dismissal.

“How can you even sit up straight after so many shots", Chris persisted. "You’ll get whiskey dick.”

“Wanna bet?” Viktor winked.

“I’m calling us a cab right now. Getting you to the hotel and tucking you into bed.”

Viktor wanted to reply angrily, but surprised himself with a hearty yawn. He blinked slowly. It finally registered with him that he was exhausted.

“A-ha!” Chris reacted, happily. “There you go. You’re more excited by the prospect of sleep than sex.”

He waved a hand, asking for the bill, then he called a cab.

Viktor allowed himself to be bundled inside the cab. He was silent on the way back to the hotel, and a part of him was looking forward to sleep, but then he realized he would have to face Yuuri, sleep close to him, possibly for the last time, and that thought became so painful that Viktor knew he wasn’t drunk enough for this.

“I’m going to have to get another room for the night”, he told Chris, sighing.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If you really want to, you can sleep in my room.”

“With you and Adolphe? Be careful what you’re offering me. I fear the temptation alone might kill me.”

“You’re hopeless. And a coward. Go sleep with Yuuri. Talk to him. Or better yet, just stand by his side quietly for now. Let him skate his best tomorrow.”

“Seriously, Chris, it hurts that you have to tell me that. I’m not that unprofessional as to jeopardize in any way Yuuri’s chances tomorrow.”

“I know you’re not. But you also tend to be passive aggressive when things don’t go your way, so rein that in. Just let it be for now. Night is the mother of counsel.”

“Thanks, fairy godmother.”

“Don’t mention it, princess.”

Chris insisted on walking Viktor to his room, to make sure he didn’t chicken out on the way. Viktor sighed in deep relief, when he saw that Yuuri wasn’t in.

“Where’s Yuuri?” Chris asked. “It’s past 10 pm.”

“Probably having dinner with Phichit or something. I don’t know”, Viktor shrugged.

He stripped quickly and climbed into bed. Chris tapped his shoulder softly.

“Night, Viktor.”

“Night, Chris. Love you.”

“I know, sugar. It will be okay, you’ll see.”

Chris went out, closing the door quietly behind him. He was walking in the direction of the elevator, preoccupied, and he almost passed Yuuri without seeing him.

Yuuri smiled and nodded at him, as they reached eye level, and Chris hesitated a moment, but then reached out and grabbed his arm:

“Yuuri, hang on”, he said.

“Hey, Chris”, Yuuri answered, looking at him curiously, but blanched a little at the look on Chris’ face.

“I need to talk to you,” Chris said seriously.

“To me? What about?”

“About Viktor – and yourself.”

“Um – oh.” Yuuri’s face fell. “He told you. Of course he would. Right.“

“Yes, he did. I gave this a lot of thought, Yuuri, of what I’d like to say to you, so please, listen.”

Yuuri moved a little further, and sat down on one of the hallway armchairs, looking a little apprehensive:

“I’m listening, Chris.”

“Viktor’s guidance, talent, and beauty touches all of us, not only you. He carries the flame of inspiration wherever he goes, and what is such a flame if it cannot be shared and passed on? That being said, I would like to apologize for my earlier words, when I accused you of the sin of keeping Viktor only to yourself. That was misguided. You couldn’t do that even if you tried. A presence like Viktor’s cannot be contained, just like you can’t bottle light – it will shine through. I thought this season would not motivate me, but I performed flawlessly, surpassed my personal best again. Little Yuri made history here, he broke Viktor’s record. What does that tell you, about inspiration, about legacy? Last but not least, yourself. You’re so busy self-destructing you don’t see the beautiful  creature you have grown to be. Your old self doesn’t fit you anymore, yet you cling to it like a second-hand cloak you’ve long outworn.”

“What are you saying?” Yuuri asked, bewildered by this speech. He couldn’t tell if he was praised or scolded.

“Two bits of advice,” Chris continued. “First of all, don’t quit. It’s not your time yet to retire. You’re a late bloomer, your stamina is to be envied, and you’re just getting started. Don’t throw that away, just because you feel unworthy now. Because, Yuuri, all eyes are on you – in challenge, in admiration, in genuine interest, acknowledging that you are a force to be reckoned with.”

Yuuri gulped, his eyes filling with tears. That was one thing he did not expect, coming from one of his rivals, no less.

“Secondly, regarding Viktor. I’m not going to give advice on the personal part of your relationship, since that’s hardly my business. I’ll just mention in passing that it’s obvious to everyone how in love you two are with each other, it’s equal parts cute and aggravating”. He smiled. Yuuri blushed. “Professionally, however – you and Viktor are the dream team, the driving force behind so many of our performances – we can’t decide whether we want to beat you or join you. The beautiful part about sports is that even negative feelings can be channeled into fantastic performances.”

Yuuri couldn’t help a quiet snicker, even if his eyes were pulsing with unshed tears.

“What?” Chris asked.

“Nothing – Viktor said to me something along those lines, as well.”

“Talk to Viktor, without presuming to know what’s good for him better than he does. Listen to what he says and what he wants. You might realize it’s what you want as well. And then have the courage to own up to it.”

Yuuri’s face scrunched.

“I get it, you know, Yuuri”, Chris added, more gently. “It’s easier to curl up in the dark and lick your wounds, when you feel you’re not good enough. Easier than to risk it and fight for what you want. But it’s not brave. And it’s not a solution.”

“I know....I know it’s not. I... I feel so horrible. How is it that you know this, Chris, you strike me like such a confident person!”

“Ehh...it’s mostly for show. I just work on it a lot. And it’s a lot easier to give advice to others than follow my own advice, you know”, Chris smiled self-deprecatingly. “Believe me, I’ve had slumps of my own. Luckily, I also had people to help me out of those slumps, so I figured I’d do the same if opportunity arose.”

“Chris...thank you. This has been... I have to think. Really think, about what you told me, and what I’m going to do.”

Chris caught Yuuri in a one-armed hug and held him close.

“Take care now, Yuuri.”

 

Viktor was asleep when Yuuri entered their room, or pretended to be. He was lying curled on his side, clutching a pillow to his chest. Yuuri took a long shower, trying to clear his mind. He emerged, slightly shivering, turned off the lights and climbed into the second bed. He took another look at Viktor, in the pale light of the moon - his features were slack and he hadn’t moved an inch. He really was sleeping.

Yuuri’s hands ached with how much he wanted to touch Viktor. He curled them into fists at his sides instead and turned to stare at the ceiling.

I’m in the Grand Prix Final. And I’m playing to win.

Why do I want to win?

I’m doing it for Viktor, I’m doing it for fame, I’m doing it to reward the people who put their trust in me and supported me.

... I’m doing it for all the wrong reasons.

No. Again:

Why do I want to win?

To make Viktor proud.

No. Again:

Why do I want to win?

_I’m doing it for me._

Because I _like_ it.

God, I like winning so much. I want to win so badly and I feel it in my bones that I can. It's overwhelming, like something alive and precious trapped inside a cage, frantically beating its wings, struggling to break out. I want to get that gold. Not to get married, not to get fame. For the sheer joy of it. For the surprise that’s gonna paint people’s faces. I want to take what Viktor’s created and build on it until I not only surprise him but make him feel like the earth shatters underneath him. I want Viktor to bow to me and recognize in me someone worthy of respectful fear. _I want to surpass him._

_And that’s when I’ll conquer him. That’s when I’ll really have him._

_  
When we’re finally equals._

 

And then?

Then we’ll build on that. On the highest of grounds.

 

He looked over at Viktor’s sleeping form.

_Just you wait,_ Yuuri whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok u know what?  
> I rewrote this chapter like 5+ times, the canon timeline is such a bitch to work around, I CRY  
> Damn YOI and its always surprising™ twists and turns and fuck Yuuri for his unfortunate timing.  
> Fuck Yuuri especially. (Viktor: I’m t r y i ng)
> 
> On the plus side, I'm going to try my very best and update before the finale ~


	5. Chapter 5

Viktor woke up the following morning dazed and numb like after a fever spell. He wasn’t hungover, just hazy, and the shadow of an unusually vivid dream prowled about in his mind for most of the day. The dream itself was slightly ridiculous, and under different circumstances, he would have laughed about it, but for the complicated and strangely compelling feelings it stirred in him.

Viktor had dreamt that he was the king of a land where it snowed all the time. He had a sword which was a symbol of his power. He kept that sword tightly clutched in his grip, and when he slept he kept it shackled to his wrist by heavy chains, because he couldn’t trust anyone to have it, and he knew everyone coveted it. But then two men came to his kingdom and they ate of his food and drank of his wine and Viktor saw to them as friends. The two men in the dream looked like Yuuri and Yurio. And one night they dragged him outside, where the snow was still falling, and held him down and slashed and carved with their little axes at the chain which bound him to his sword. At first there were little cuts, the scratches in the old chain barely making an indent, and Viktor laughed. But the Yuris didn’t laugh. And they didn’t stop. And Viktor stopped laughing as well, just watched their beautiful faces, screwed up in determination through the falling snow, and he didn’t feel afraid – he felt elated. Viktor shrugged once, and kicked them off, and they went flying – because he was still the most powerful. He raised himself up slowly, to his full height, and the Yuris looked up at him, terrified. But Viktor bowed his head and extended his hands, in a wordless plea for them to continue. Yurio jumped immediately and heaved a terrible blow – the chain rattled and broke, and the sword fell at the boy’s feet. Yurio gave a roar of triumph. Viktor stood still as a stone, his face frozen. He watched as the two Yuris lifted the sword which was too heavy for either one of them to carry alone. He remained unmoving, waiting for the final blow. The three of them faced each other for a long moment, until Viktor realized that neither of the two Yuris was going to make a move. They would leave the worst part to him. Viktor turned from them and set off along the large expanse of snow. Without his sword, the snow hungrily parted its jaws to swallow him. He allowed it. He closed his eyes, parted his arms in a gesture of final surrender and he _fell._

The snow was warm and it covered him like a comforting blanket.

Viktor pondered this dream over his morning shower. It was undoubtedly brought about by yesterday’s events, Yurio breaking his record, his own thoughts of the shackles of competition binding him. He remembered that Yuuri was also there, chopping away at the chains which bound him to his ‘sword of power’. After yesterday, he would have cast Yuuri in the opposite role, trying to force the unwanted glorisome burden tighter into his reluctant hand.

Viktor sighed.

What does Yuuri want? – that was a question which had plagued Viktor for a long time, and it seemed that now, a year later, he wasn’t any closer to finding an answer.

 

_A year ago, post GPF Banquet, Sochi_

They dropped on the bed together, breathless and laughing. Their bodies rolled on top of each other, in a playful fight for dominance, until Viktor allowed himself to be pinned down, hands on Yuuri’s hips as Yuuri straddled him.

“You’ve teased me long enough”, Yuuri muttered, as he fumbled with Viktor’s belt.

Viktor laughed out loud, gazing adoringly up at Yuuri.

“Me?” he shouted incredulously. “You’re teasing me right now. You’ve been teasing me all night! Even before that. I said we should take a photo, and you _refused me_. You’re an intriguing man, Katsuki Yuuri.”

Yuuri had finally managed to open Viktor’s belt and pushed his pants down around his thighs. With a rather wicked look, the young man rubbed at Viktor’s cock through the thin material of his briefs, then he slid down and followed the movement with his mouth, gently pressing and releasing.

“Ah!” Viktor shouted, throwing his head back, then quickly looked down, hungry to watch Yuuri. His look was returned, but the beautiful brown eyes of the Japanese man were hazy and unfocused. Too unfocused. Viktor frowned slightly.

“Just how very drunk are you, Yuuri?”

“Really very drunk,” Yuuri answered, with a snort. “Does’t matter?” He chuckled again.

Viktor didn’t smile.

“Yeah. I don’t feel comfortable doing this to you when you’re drunk.”

“You’re not doing anything, ‘m doing all the work here”, Yuuri cackled.

He pressed Viktor down on the bed and swiveled his hips down against his crotch with languid, lingering motions – fluid and careless and free – _he fucks like he dances,_ Viktor thought helplessly - _of course, of course he would_. The friction was delicious, Yuuri’s weight on him absolutely divine and Viktor’s eyes almost crossed with the pleasure of it.

“Fuck”, he gasped.

“Yeah...yeah”, Yuuri agreed. “S-so good...”

He buried his face in Viktor’s neck, sucking softly at the junction between his neck and shoulder, and Viktor tried really hard to remember why doing this was a bad idea. He wanted to cry with how unfair it all was. He pushed at Yuuri’s shoulders, trying to put some space between them. He couldn’t focus with Yuuri doing _that._ Yuuri resisted the movement, clinging to him with the stubbornness and strength of the truly plastered.

“Yuuri – nngh. That’s not the... the point. You’re not able to... to consent to this...properly...now.”

There, he said it. Viktor was proud of how articulate he was in those moments, particularly since at one point in his speech, Yuuri had taken to running his teeth gently along the curve of his shoulder and when Viktor had finished speaking, Yuuri had bitten delicately and tentatively at the flesh, like sampling a morsel before a proper meal. Not enough to leave a mark, nowhere near close to it, but Viktor shuddered and whined.

“Yuuri, goddamnit!” he complained.

“For once I want to have fun and you’re not on board”, Yuuri said mournfully, but he finally lifted his head, and Viktor took advantage of that small reprieve to press his palms firmly against his chest, so he could look him in the eyes.

“I’m totally up for having fun, but you have to be awake and aware for it”, he repeated. “It feels like taking advantage of you otherwise. Forgive me, but it doesn’t seem to me like you’re in the habit of doing this often.”

“No, no”, Yuuri agreed. “’m not. Only with you.”

Viktor gasped quietly. His tone was warm and affectionate when he said:

“All the more reason, then. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but let’s take this slow. I don’t want you having any regrets.”

“Ridiculous”, Yuuri laughed, and removed Viktor’s hands from his chest, pinning both wrists by his sides. “I want you so much. It’s driving me mad.” His intent, glazed stare trapped Viktor’s gaze and made him blush helplessly. “How can I possibly regret this.” Yuuri pressed his hips down a few times more, in that maddening rhythm, which had Viktor unconsciously lift his own hips to meet it. “That’s right”, Yuuri smiled. “You don’t get to talk your way out of this, unless you tell me _you_ don’t want it. No bullshit like ‘oh, I don’t want to take advantage of you like this.’ Cause I’m very self-aware. Just so you know”, he slurred.

“The hell you are, Yuuri”, Viktor said, irritation clear in his voice. Despite the circumstance and the fact that he was still very aroused, he felt annoyance creep up on him. If only he could throw him off, but he couldn’t move beneath Yuuri at all. It seemed Yuuri was surprisingly strong when he wanted to be. A part of Viktor really wanted to give in and just let it happen. What would be the worst outcome? Yuuri hating Viktor in the morning and hating himself too, his mind immediately answered. The Japanese man had refused to take a photo with him when he was sober and completely ignored him until he got drunk. Viktor couldn’t allow for a worse version of this to happen, not when his heart beat so fast, not when he felt things for the unassuming charms of this young man that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years. It had crept up on him so unexpectedly, but this was _it_ – love - and he wasn’t about to risk it for the sake of fleeting sexual pleasure. Even though it felt _so good_ , he couldn’t take advantage of Yuuri while he was like this. Viktor gathered all his strength and pushed up with vicious intent.

Yuuri pressed down on his wrists with his entire weight, restraining him. Viktor made a couple more attempts to escape, with Yuuri not giving an inch, then at last he decided it was beneath his dignity to struggle any further. As if reading his mind, Yuuri repeated:

“If you really don’t want it, say it. Say you don’t want me.”

“I want you, Yuuri. Want you so bad it hurts”, (‘even if you don’t always seem to want me’, Viktor continued bitterly in his mind). “But I don’t want to do this right now. I’m – not feeling well”, he said seriously, with a sudden stroke of inspiration. There, was that so difficult, that’s what he should have said from the beginning. Yuuri slackened his grip incredulously. “I’ve drunk too much, I feel sick”, Viktor went on. It wasn’t true, he was sadly, depressingly sober. He pushed experimentally at Yuuri’s grip on his wrists and this time, they gave. Then he pushed at Yuuri’s chest, a little more forcefully than was necessary, given that Yuuri was backing off - out of sheer frustration that he had to do this. It caused Yuuri to slide right off, lose his balance and land on his ass on the floor, with a thump. He blinked slowly as if he had no idea how he had ended up there.

“Ow”, Yuuri said, quietly, and Viktor thought, rather adorably.

Screw this, Viktor needed to leave while he still had the strength to do the right thing. He stood up quickly and pulled his pants back on, trying his best not to look at Yuuri, and made for the door. He needed to walk it off. Or take a cold shower. Or better yet - his hand on his cock while thinking of Yuuri’s soft but demanding hands on him, his eyes as he begged Viktor to be his coach – and _then_ a cold shower. He’d decide outside.

“I know you’re lying, you drank less than me”, he heard Yuuri’s quiet voice behind him and froze. “You’re such a jerk, you know”, Yuuri continued. “You’re fine with playing around, but when it comes down to it – ha.”

Viktor turned to stare at him, bewildered.

“All I ever wanted was to be close to you”, Yuuri went on, eyes rapidly filling with tears. “All I wanted was to have you in my life – for a little while...I’m not stupid, I never dreamed of anything more. But you just had to lead me on, and then reject me.”

Viktor couldn’t believe his ears. He took a deep breath to steady himself. _All Yuuri ever wanted was to ... be close to him?_ He felt the ground shake underneath him – it was too much. Yuuri was going to be the death of him. Was this just the drink talking, though? He needed to be sure.

“Yuuri, please”, Viktor said, his voice shaking with emotion. “Listen to me carefully. Tomorrow, if you still want me, come to my room.” He frowned, as he pondered this. “You may be too hungover tomorrow”, he continued, already coming up with reasons and apologies in case Yuuri didn’t show up, “and then you have a flight to catch, so I’ll understand if you don’t come. But we’ll see each other at the next competition. When you’re ready, just let me know, just _be there,_ and I’m yours – I promise.”

Viktor couldn’t tell how many of his words registered in Yuuri’s mind at that point. He still sat cross-legged on the floor, looking as lost and adorable as ever. Viktor shook his head abruptly, to ward off any lingering temptation, and with a last: “Get some sleep, Yuuri”, he was out the door.

_One year later (present day), GPF, Barcelona_

“Hey”, Yuuri said to Viktor, who was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, styling his hair with much less energy and enthusiasm than usual. “Are you ready?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you this?” Viktor smiled.

It was still the polite smile, but Yuuri was okay with that.

“I’m ready to face the music”, he answered. “Let’s go.”

 

Standing in the warm-up area, facing the stern faces of the competitors, who stared back at him, Yuuri felt reminded of Chris’ words – their eyes are on you - in challenge, in admiration, in genuine interest. He smiled grimly. Right back at them. This is on, it’s _so on._ He felt almost giddy with anticipation and opportunity. He loved this program – this program was all him, he couldn’t wait to express just how much he enjoyed skating it.

“You know, a year ago, I never would have dreamed of this”, Yuuri said, apropos of nothing.

Viktor raised his eyebrows sky-high but didn’t comment.

Yuuri watched him stealthily out of the corner of his eye as he continued to stretch.

Viktor was sulking.

Yuuri had a momentary urge to ruffle his coach’s freshly styled hair.

He stared out onto the ice. He felt focused, but not rigid. His usual fears and anxieties were far away, replaced by excitement and something like nostalgia.

~

It was time.

Yuuri took the ice, lingering by the rinkside, taking his last sips of water before the performance. This was the moment for Viktor to say something to him, or do something to empower him. Yuuri had no idea if Viktor would do that now, but he had decided in any case that their last rinkside speech would be his own.

“Remember to watch me, and only me”, he whispered to Viktor. “Watch as I become the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. I’m going to make you feel things no one else has. I’m going to _destroy you_ and then put you back together again.”

“Yuuri”, Viktor gasped at him. His eyes glittered with a powerful emotion, that Yuuri had never seen on Viktor before. It was something like shock, a little like fear, and definitely a lot like love.

Yuuri smiled at him confidently, then turned and skated away.

He took his position on the ice and briefly closed his eyes.

_This is the last time._

_The last time I skate this beautiful program that Viktor and I made._

_The last time that Viktor watches me draw upon the ice my love letter to him._

The beautiful music started playing – and Yuuri did not perform it – he lived it. He felt like he could fly – and he did. Since last night, one of the things on his mind, which he did not tell Viktor about – was the possibility that he could turn the first jump combo from a quad toe – triple toe into a 4T-4T combination, and not lose any momentum in the flow of the program. It was something so outlandish and risky that he wouldn’t have dared to utter it out loud. But now, Yuuri was sure of two things: First, that he had nothing to lose. Second, that every fiber of his being spurred him on with the absolute certainty that he could do it. He launched into it, and landed both jumps flawlessly, distantly aware of the roaring of the crowd like the dim faraway sound of waves breaking on the shoreline. The familiar song was what filled his mind and heart to the brim. Every second of that melody was an anthem, every one of his lovingly choreographed moves and elements was a prayer. His mind, for once not working against him, was singing the song back at him, magnifying it until it echoed like a hymn in the halls of his mind, until it flowed through his veins, until it mingled with the beats of his heart – he was one with the music. He was the music. The music lived in him. He knew, without having to prove it, that he was beautiful. He knew the ice would not crumble under his feet, but aid his flight and mirror his grace. It carried him onward until the final jump – the quad flip, perfectly landed – the crowd erupted into screams, piercing through Yuuri’s mind like the touch of a cold blade - the melody was nearing its end, and Yuuri was ending his journey, making his way back home, he was starting to awaken as if from a long and fantastic dream.

Yuuri ended it, one hand hovering over his heart, the other pointing towards Viktor, taking laboured, heaving breaths as he came down from his high.

A rain of cheers poured down on Yuuri, along with flowers, toys, and anything the crowd saw fit to part with – thrown in offering onto the ice.

Yuuri drank it all in. When he eventually made his way towards the kiss and cry, he was laughing with delight. Now that the program was over, he could feel the aches and stings in his muscles, betraying the fact that his body had been pushed to the limit, the soles of his feet protested the abuse with every step he took – but he experienced those discomforts through a haze of exhilaration, endorphins still coursing through his veins, making him feel carefree, reckless. Viktor was on him as soon as he reached solid ground, pulling him in a painfully tight hug.

“Yuuri, Yuuri”, he cried. “Beautiful, magnificent. My god, Yuuri! You skated with such emotion, your body was creating music, it was magical! And the height and speed of that quad flip! And that quad-quad combo! I never knew that you could do that!”

“To be fair, I never knew that either....until today”, Yuuri answered happily.

He pulled back slightly to look into Viktor’s face.

There was happiness and affection painted clearly across the features of his coach, but there it also was again: that lingering undercurrent of shock.

On an impulse, Yuuri pulled him close, and kissed it firmly off his face. It was only a firm peck, which lasted maybe a second, but the crowd went wild, and the cameras flashed madly in their direction.

Viktor barely reacted. He blinked slowly, looking unusually flustered, as if he had trouble processing everything that was happening. _Like the earth was shattering underneath him._ Yuuri smiled at him knowingly, then turned towards the cameras, making a heart-shaped sign with his fingers.

“The scores...for Katsuki Yuuri.... I sense we’re on the verge of something historical again, what do you think, Oda-san?”

“Definitely, after that groundbreaking performance! Let’s see. Yes! He’s done it! Katsuki Yuuri’s free skate score is 225.41!”

A white noise filled Yuuri’s mind as he took it in – fragmented parts of words flitted in and out of his field of hearing – “amazing .... I can’t believe this ... broke Viktor Nikiforov’s free skate world record....Two world records set by the great champion broken in the same competition....history is made before our eyes...”

Yuuri’s heart was full, fit to burst. Everything that had happened to him, everything that he had made happen – it had all led to this. In that one moment he couldn’t focus on anything else but the unbearable brightness of the moment – and how everything in his life until then, and possibly from then onward, would maybe fail to live up to this. He shivered violently, as if a current passed through him, hid his face in his hands and burst into wholesome tears. Gradually he became aware of someone’s arms around him, gentle but firm, then he was being helped up, guided away, Viktor’s scent enveloping him, calming him. He raised his head. He smiled through his tears, lifted his arms to wave at the crowd, and allowed himself to be led backstage. There was nothing to do now but wait.

“Are you alright?” Viktor asked him after a while, voice soft.

“I don’t know”, Yuuri answered truthfully. “It feels like too much.”

“Yes”, Viktor agreed, and kissed the ring on Yuuri’s finger reverently. “You are so beautiful, Yuuri. So perfect. I’ll never get tired of saying this to you. I love watching you. I love-”

“I broke your record”, Yuuri murmured. “Aren’t you sad?”

“Sad? God, no. It’s liberating. You have given me everything, Yuuri, and I want-“

“Hey, pig. Watch me go”, Yurio remarked eloquently as he passed them, on his way to the rink, head held high in defiance.

Viktor and Yuuri stopped to gape at him.

“Davai!” Viktor shouted.

“I’m in first place”, Yuuri breathed, feeling the familiar anxiety reach its tendrils out towards him. “I’m in first place and only Yurio remains to skate.” _Ohgodohgodohgod._ Suddenly his careless freedom when he thought he had nothing left to lose gave way to a sinking feeling in his stomach when he realized he now had _everything_ to lose.

Both Yuuri and Viktor stood in silence, watching Yurio skate. At one point, Yuuri became conscious of the fact that he had gripped Viktor’s arm and was steadily digging his nails into the fabric of the suit – it must have been painful but Viktor didn’t seem to notice, or mind - he was staring at the rink, completely immersed in the performance of the young Russian.

A performance which was undeniably flawless.

Yurio held his own until the end, having landed all his jumps, then collapsed onto the ice, at the end of his strength, as a shower of offerings rained all around him onto the rink.

“Amazing, Yurio”, Viktor shouted at him enthusiastically, as he approached the rink side.

“That was fantastic”, Yuuri chimed in.

Right. _The scores._  

“Yuri Plisetsky has surpassed his personal best yet again!” the commentator bellowed. “His free skate score is 203.05, and his final score is 321.61, which places him _just under_ Katsuki Yuuri’s final score of 323.24!!”

“Huh?” Yurio jumped.

“Huh??” Yuuri cried.

“So close”, the commentators were saying. “So close and yet so far. Ladies and Gentlemen, the men’s singles grand prix of figure skating final champion is _Katsuki Yuuri_! The final standings are as follows...”

Yuuri trembled on his feet. Everything gave in to a blur of people congratulating him, shaking his hand, hugging or kissing him – and then the podium – the national anthem – the skaters shaking his hand, Yurio promising him a miserable defeat at the World Championships, Chris winking at him, Phichit hugging him so tightly that Yuuri could only cling back to his old friend while he cried, in sheer happiness and disbelief, for the second time that day.

When he was allowed a moment’s respite, Yuuri looked down in awe at the medal which hung heavily around his neck, a comforting weight. He took it in hand and stared at it in wonder. It matched his gold ring. His eyes automatically searched for Viktor. He could see him, even without his glasses, standing a little to the side, watching Yuuri with a small smile. Yuuri frowned a little, it was entirely unlike Viktor not to attempt to be the centre of attention.

Yuuri approached his coach a little shyly, now that the self-fulfilling prophecy of getting gold came true, he remembered Viktor’s words to the other skaters, that once Yuuri won gold, they would get married. He wondered if that was on anyone else’s mind as well.

“Viktor”, he said, needlessly.

“Yuuri.”

A silence followed. Viktor wasn’t going to make this easy for him, Yuuri realized. He hesitated between two opposite impulses. The first urged him to launch headfirst into Viktor’s chest and cling to him like a koala to its favourite tree while reciting all the English words of abject gratitude and worship he could remember in that moment. The second was a bit more tricky because it required Viktor to acknowledge him as someone who had just beaten his highest score – someone who could pose a real threat if Viktor decided to come back to the ice. He didn’t know how to make Viktor understand that he needed the very simple but meaningful gesture of Viktor bowing to him – not in abject submission, but in gracious acknowledgement.

“You’re not...you haven’t joined me in the pictures”, Yuuri finally said.

“This is your moment, Yuuri”, Viktor said blithely. “Congratulations, I knew you could do it. You deserve all the praise.”

“And so do you. I wouldn’t have done it without you.”

“Your last performance....it took me entirely by surprise, as you no doubt intended – I had no role in that, except as a spectator.”

“No”, Yuuri said. “Just because you did not expect it, doesn’t mean you had no part to play in it. You were the driving force behind what I’ve just done. Like I said: I wouldn’t have done it without you.”

The subtle difference in Yuuri’s words finally registered with Viktor; the difference between ‘could’ and ‘would’; between being capable, and being motivated to do something.

“You’re right”, Yuuri continued. “I’ve been capable of winning all along. But only everything we’ve been through so far could have brought me to this mindset where winning became a reality.”

“Ah. So that conversation we had yesterday, does that count towards ‘everything we’ve been through’?”

“I think so. I’m actually glad I started that conversation, because we _should_ end this. Just not for those reasons and not to that effect. The way things are between us now is not satisfying to me anymore. I need – “, Yuuri rushed to explain, because he could see Viktor’s eyes turning alarmingly wide and liquid.

“Excuse me – ,“ a voice behind him said.

“What?” Yuuri almost snapped, as he turned around.

“Can you give us an interview – “

“Can’t it wait?”

“Yuuri, you just won Grand Prix gold”, Viktor cut in smoothly. “You can’t refuse interviews.” He chuckled. “He’s new at this”, he addressed the press, with a wink.

“Mr. Nikiforov, how do you feel after this outstanding performance by your student?”

“Mr. Nikiforov, two of your World Records have been broken at this event, how do you feel about this?”

“On both counts, I feel elated. I had great faith in both Yuri Plisetsky and Katsuki Yuuri. Seeing them both reach such heights has been extremely rewarding. It’s especially satisfactory to see Katsuki Yuuri achieve what I’ve always thought him capable of achieving.”

“Will you return to competition now to reclaim your records??”

“I would like you to focus on all of these young promising skaters who have performed so well today, and who undoubtedly have great careers ahead of them – especially Katsuki Yuuri - he is a very skilled performer who always goes above and beyond expectations.”

“Mr. Nikiforov – “

Viktor graciously smiled his way out of the interview, with a well-practiced swiftness and determination that Yuuri couldn’t yet match. He had no idea how to disentangle himself from the press, whose focus was now entirely shifted to him, as Viktor had cunningly advised. His mind lingered slightly over Viktor’s last words... they were complimentary, but something about them sounded slightly bitter in Yuuri’s mind. He needed to get out of here, he needed to talk to Viktor.

 

When Yuuri could finally extricate himself from the clutches of reporters and photographers, it was hours later. He felt dead tired. Having everyone’s attention focused on him was definitely exhausting.  ‘I feel like I could sleep for a week after being harassed like this. How does Viktor deal with this sort of thing all the time?’ he thought.

Oh – that’s right. Viktor.

He hurried back to his room at a run, trying to avoid being stopped on the way. The medal was hanging heavily around his neck, bouncing in rhythm with his steps.

Viktor wasn’t in the room.

Yuuri didn’t think much of it, he took his phone and called him.

Viktor wasn’t answering his phone.

Having got the voice mail for the fourth time, Yuuri decided drastic measures were in order.

He had turned on the share location feature on Viktor’s iphone and shared it with himself indefinitely, after that night in Tokyo. He wasn’t especially proud of doing that, but he did share his own location back, should Viktor ever find out and check, and he could always explain it truthfully to Viktor, should he ever bring it up, that doing it helped calm his anxiety. Now it was going to be useful.

Yuuri’s face fell when he saw that Viktor was at a bar somewhere on the outskirts of town.

‘What the hell, he went out to celebrate without me?’ he thought, annoyed.

Then it occurred to him that there would be no sense for anyone to go out and celebrate so soon, since there would still be the gala, and then the banquet tomorrow.

Yuuri frowned and his face darkened.

“Stupid Viktor”, he muttered, then went out, slamming the door.

By the time Yuuri reached the pub, his anger had ebbed to a more quiet determination. He didn’t know exactly how he was going to play this – all he knew was that he needed Viktor to come back to the hotel with him, and he was ready to fight for what he wanted so badly – not just slink back into his shell to avoid potential pain. They needed to sit down quietly, and this time Viktor will talk and Yuuri will listen. He needed to know if Chris was right. He needed to hear Viktor’s thoughts and feelings, instead of just assume them.

He scanned the interior of the establishment, reflecting that it could have looked worse. He couldn’t see Viktor anywhere, though.

He checked his phone again – Viktor was definitely here. Did he lose his phone? Yuuri made a quick inventory of all the tables – maybe he was in the bathroom? Then he decided to ask the bartender.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for my friend, we were supposed to meet here; he’s tall, silver-haired and he’d be speaking English with a Russian accent, have you seen him by any chance?”

The bartender snickered.

“Yeah, I saw him. Looks like your friend has made another friend. I saw them sneak out into the back alley a while back.” He waved a hand towards one of the fire exits.

“Thank you”, Yuuri bit out, then turned on his heels, his face frozen, and ran out the back door that had been pointed out to him.

The street light in the back alley did not allow for much of a view, but he immediately saw who he was looking for. Witnessing Viktor making out with a stranger never got easier. But watching Viktor drunk as hell, propped up against a dirty wall, being groped in a back alley had just hit a new low in Yuuri’s book. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Viktor drunk, but he’d never seen him this plastered. Viktor didn’t look like he could make a decision about which foot to place in front of the other should he attempt walking, let alone a sexual encounter.

“What the hell?” Yuuri lashed out, suddenly enraged again, but this time not at Viktor. “Hey!”

The two broke off, startled.

“What the fuck do you want?” the stranger barked, zipping up, annoyed.

“Can’t you see he’s too drunk for this?” Yuuri shouted, not letting himself be intimidated.

As his partner’s weight shifted away, Viktor slid slowly down along the wall, as if standing up took too much effort at this point.

“The fuck do you care? Do you know him? He was the one who started hitting on me in the first place. He was pawing me like there’s no tomorrow.”

“He’s obviously in no state to give informed consent, look at him.”

Something about the situation struck him as familiar and a vague sense memory flashed briefly through his mind, confusing him – it was hazy like a dream, but he _remembered_ being very drunk and wanting to have sex, and Viktor saying they shouldn’t. He couldn’t place the memory – or was it a dream? In his vision, he felt frustrated, but looking back on it now, Yuuri was grateful, and a surge of affection for Viktor welled up in him.

He was still frowning, trying to make sense of it, when a grating voice intruded on his thoughts:

“Listen buddy, there’s a lot you need to learn about how grown ups do things. Isn’t it past your bedtime, anyway?“

“Wow, I get it, you’re an asshole”, Yuuri sneered. “No need to prove it anymore.”

“ _Take a hike_. Hey, you”, he turned to Viktor. “Do you know this kid?”

“Mmmhm.”

“Viktor, let’s go”, Yuuri broke in, approaching. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

“Dun wanna.”

“Don’t be a baby. We have things to discuss. Come on.”

“’course you don’t care what I want”, Viktor slurred under his breath, but Yuuri heard him loud and clear and froze momentarily. He grabbed Viktor’s face and tried to get his glazed, unfocused eyes, to meet his own.

“I do care, and I promise to listen to what you have to say. Now, please. Come with me.”

Viktor hesitated, then grabbed Yuuri’s coat, hanging on to it as he struggled to his feet. He turned to his would-be fuck buddy:

“Bye”, he slurred.

“Go to hell then,” his companion wished him heartily, and went back inside the bar.

“Likewise,” Yuuri couldn’t help shouting after him. He wrapped his arm tightly around Viktor’s waist and they stumbled together onto the alley.

In the cab, on the way back to the hotel, Viktor closed his eyes and just sat there in silence. Yuuri didn’t feel like talking either, not yet. He was relieved that he had arrived at that stupid bar in the nick of time. He was content that Viktor was with him now. He watched the lights of the city play on Viktor’s still face as the cab drove on. On an impulse he leaned in and kissed his eyelids softly and chastely, then his cheekbones, his forehead, his nose, the corner of his lips. He was still mapping Viktor’s face with small kisses when the cab reached the hotel.

 ~

Yuuri allowed Viktor to sleep it off until late morning the next day, before deciding enough was enough, and poked the insensible man in the ribs:

“We have to get up, eat something then get ready for the exhibition in the evening. And then there's the banquet. Come on. Wake up”, he said briskly.

“Nooo”, came the muffled, terrified response.

“You have to, come on. I'm not skating it without you there. I don’t care how bad you feel. Serves you right, anyway. How could you be so stupid?”

“Let me sleep. Go away,” Viktor mumbled.

Yuuri left him, but only to return with water and a pill.

“Sit up and take this.”

He grabbed a handful of Viktor’s hair and pulled until Viktor sat up with a pitiful whine. He took the proffered pill and drank the water, but then collapsed on the bed again.

“Please, Yuuri, go without me”, he cried.

“And what am I supposed to tell them when they ask where you are?”

“Tell them I’m moping because my records got broken. I don’t even care.”

Viktor pulled the covers up over his head entirely and resisted Yuuri’s attempts to pull them off. Yuuri had to fight the strong impulse to kick the bundle that contained Viktor onto the hard floor, and give him a few head bumps to go with that hangover. Then he had an even better idea. Using the element of surprise, he swooped down and locked his arms tightly around the mound of blankets, only to lift it right off the bed.

A startled muffled shriek followed, and the bundle began to writhe. Yuuri ignored it, trying to keep as tight a grasp as he could, as he dragged the kicking and screaming cocoon that contained Viktor all the way to the bathroom.

“Yuuri, what!!! Put me down! I’m going to be sick!”

With a great deal of effort, sustained only by his mounting irritation, Yuuri deposited his burden into the bathtub, then ripped the blankets off Viktor, turning on the shower at the same time, even as the bewildered man was attempting to rise, with uncoordinated movements.

“What the hell??” Viktor coughed and spluttered, as the cold water hit him.

Yuuri pushed down on his shoulders, preventing him from rising.

“Stop being a five-year old!” he shouted, sternly. “You’re gonna sober up and join me at the gala and at the banquet. But first, we’re going to have a long talk, with no interruptions this time.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s too bad. Because I love you. That's the only thing keeping me from leaving your sorry ass right now, considering how awfully angry I am with you." 

Viktor stared at Yuuri in absolute astonishment, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Yuuri didn’t even try to hold back his laughter.

Slowly, Viktor rose, took the shower head from Yuuri and started to wash himself, slowly, methodically. Yuuri lingered, making sure Viktor was steady enough on his feet to avoid falling and cracking his head open. After Viktor was done, and he came out of the bathtub with uncertain but careful steps, still wincing slightly with every step, Yuuri took off his clothes and stepped into the shower. He pretended not to notice that Viktor had remained on the doorstep to watch him.

 

“First of, how dare you go away and leave me alone on the most important day of my life, ever.”

“I wanted the press to be focused on you –“

“Shut up. That was a rhetorical question. This one isn’t, though: How dare you go and do that _thing_ you used to do, have you forgotten our agreement? If I hadn’t found you in time-”

“Our agreement?” Viktor interrupted him, raising his voice incredulously. “How can that still hold, when you said you wanted to end things? You said it yesterday, you said it again today! Yuuri – I’m getting whip lashed here. I’ve been the world’s most patient man and you know I love you, but you have to decide what you want!”

Yuuri quelled down a momentary urge to smile. It’s true he'd been a little unreasonable. But it still didn’t excuse the fact that Viktor just went off to a bar to pick up random strangers again.

“I’ve decided what I want”, Yuuri answered. “If those reporters had let me finish what I wanted to say to you yesterday, now we’d be on the same page. You should have been more patient and wait for me, instead of just storming off after you got the wrong idea. But never mind that now. What I want right now is to listen to you. I want to hear what you want, Viktor. How you feel about me. About everything. I want to know it all.”

Viktor stared at him for a long while, then laughed softly.

“This might take a while.”

“I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll sit here with you all day and night if I have to."

"But the gala and tha banquet -"

"Forget the stupid banquet. Forget everything that isn’t you and me right now.”

And Viktor told him.

“Well, Yuuri. The first thing you have to know is that I’ve been in love with you for one year, two days and –“ he looked at his watch, “five hours.”

Yuuri sat in silence and listened to Viktor’s account of the banquet, and of the scene that followed – his eyes wide as saucers, disbelief and chagrin painted all over his features.

“Viktor, you must know....I _didn’t remember anything the next day_. I’m so sorry.”

“I know that _now._ I didn’t know then.”

Viktor picked at his blanket morosely, disentangling a bit of fluff and twisting it around his fingers.

“Why didn’t _you_ say something, give me some sort of sign?” Yuuri murmured. His mind was on fire trying to process all this.

“I didn’t want you to feel pressured. It needed to be your choice. You were so drunk that night – but the next morning, you could have realized this wasn’t what you wanted and feel relieved we didn’t go any further.”

Yuuri reflected on that. Viktor was right. He sighed. It was sad, but as he continued to think about it, a corner of his mouth turned upwards.

“I’m sorry, but this is a little funny. You showing up at my place, heading straight for the onsen, greeting me with a full-frontal and winking at me? In hindsight, that was the natural progression to our relationship, but back then I thought you were the playboy type, and just wanted to mess with me. I’ve thought that for a long time.”

“I’m glad you think my suffering was funny,” Viktor moped. “I cried myself to sleep that first night, you know. I thought you were rejecting me out of spite because I rejected you that night – although it was for your own good, since your drunk ass couldn’t give proper consent. Then I thought maybe you had moved on and didn’t want me in that way anymore. You seemed to still want me as a coach, though, so I stayed. What I saw of your stamina and dancing that night inspired me more than anything else had in years. I had to bring that out of you again somehow.”

Yuuri pondered.

“Wow...”, he finally said. Then again, with emphasis: “Wow.”

Viktor sat up straighter.

“Now, Yuuri, it’s your turn”, he said, leaning forward. “Perhaps now you can tell me what exactly do you feel like ending today.”

Yuuri brightly ignored the apparent sarcasm in Viktor’s tone and nodded:

“I don’t want you to take care of me anymore”, he answered, simply and calmly.

Viktor gave a small start, frowning slightly, but didn’t reply, waiting for Yuuri to continue.

“I don’t want that to be our relationship anymore”, Yuuri went on. “For all of this time, ever since you came into my life....well, I still don’t really remember last year’s banquet, so I guess what I mean is ever since you arrived to Hasetsu as my coach, I’ve been looking up to you and feeling unworthy of you; and you looked after me – or well, did your best to look after me, you made a few mistakes but –“

“Yuuri”, Viktor cringed. “Get to the point, okay?”

“That is my point. I’ve decided I don’t want you in my life as an authority figure, or worse, as an idol. But I do want you, Viktor Nikiforov, you imperfect, impossible man. And that’s why I felt I had to burn the legend of you to the ground. I suppose I’ve achieved that now, haven’t I?”

“Yuuri, my head hurts, I’m hungover. I don’t understand what you’re saying. Stop using so many metaphors”, Viktor complained.

“What I’m saying is: Will you stay with me – forever, for the rest of our lives, even if I do decide to retire?”

Viktor blinked slowly.

“....Sounds like a marriage proposal”, he finally said, with a lopsided smile.

“That’s exactly what it is”, Yuuri nodded.

“That’s not what you meant yesterday when you said you wanted to end this.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Breaking your record. Winning the gold. Landing that quad combination. Being counselled by a good friend of yours. Doesn’t really matter. But now I feel entitled, and ready to take what I want.”

“And what you want is...me?”

“Yes. I want you to stay close to me and never leave me. So what do you say?”

“You don’t even need to ask me that, Yuuri. My answer has been yes for a long time. I’ve waited a year for you to be ready.” Viktor inched closer to Yuuri on the bed. “My beautiful boy.” He touched Yuuri’s bottom lip reverently. “You broke my record”, he quietly whispered, awe in his voice, as if it had only just registered with him. “How did it feel?”

Yuuri didn’t even have to think.

“It felt exhilarating. And I’m nowhere near done surprising you.”

But then he looked down at his feet, bare, pale and raw like an open wound, and self-consciously tried to pull the bathrobe even further down to cover them.

“I just hope I have the strength for it,” he mused.

Viktor followed his look and then immediately pounced down on him. Yuuri cringed and closed his eyes involuntarily, as if expecting a blow – any touch would have been too much for his hypersensitive self in that moment – but Viktor merely ran his fingers lightly over Yuuri’s feet. It reminded Yuuri of another time, fraught with pain and hope – was it that long ago? – when he lay boneless under Viktor’s hands under the sunlight in Hasetsu.

Yuuri sighed at the touch, even as he couldn’t help wincing – the area was an open, raw nerve - even the light touch felt painful. He lay back on the bed and refused to look anymore – refused to acknowledge them - swollen, bruised, zig-zagged with angry red cuts. Viktor removed his hand and straightened. Yuuri didn’t open his eyes. He heard Viktor move around, then his approaching steps, and then he felt something cool and fragrant being rubbed gently on the sensitive skin.

“Mmmmpf!” Yuuri reacted.

“Shhh”, Viktor said. “This will do you good.”

“It’s just – it’s really tender. Everything hurts.”

“I know, baby”, Viktor answered feelingly. “It will feel better soon, you’ll see.”

“Mmmhm”, Yuuri said. “Ah. I take it back. I don’t want you to stop taking care of me.”

His eyes were still closed but his features rearranged themselves in a smirk.

When Viktor answered, Yuuri could hear the smile in his voice.

“We can take care of each other”, Viktor offered. “We’ve got our entire lives in front of us. We can take turns.”

Yuuri opened his eyes and looked down at him. He struggled to put his thoughts in order.

“You asked me how I felt after I broke your record. Well, my feelings are so intense and complicated I could never put them properly into words. But there’s one thing.... Well. Remember, when we talked backstage, after I got the medal...? just before those vultures swooped down on me for their interviews...”

“Mhm,” Viktor nodded.

“...well I - it’s funny but I wanted you to formally acknowledge yourself defeated, bow down to me. Haha, it sounds crazy, right, and like I’m being kind of a jerk, but....l-like in chess, when the king is taken and the player makes the piece collapse on the board...” Yuuri chuckled with how insane it sounded. “Uhhm, don’t mind me, I’m delirious.”

Viktor’s hand on Yuuri’s ankle had stopped moving.

“Like....me laying my sword down at your feet?” he said, quietly.

“Well – yes. Now that you mention it – That’s an even more vivid image. I like it.”

“I had a dream like that, the night before you won gold”, Viktor murmured.

“You _did not”,_ Yuuri gasped. “Are you having prophetic dreams now?”

“It wasn’t exactly prophetic...although in hindsight maybe it was. It was more about me relinquishing a burden. Yuuri...” Viktor looked Yuuri in the eye, then deliberately lowered his gaze, bowed his head, and bent over Yuuri’s foot still held in his grasp. He ran his fingers thoughtfully over the red-bruised mound of the instep, and his lips immediately followed, in a gentle yet firm kiss. “Viktor Nikiforov is dead”, he said serenely. “Long live Viktor Nikiforov.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hear me out, guys: The quad-quad combo in figure skating is crazy difficult, has not been done in competition afaik, maybe someone who knows more about FS can correct me, but it’s not unachievable! Because here’s this vid where this guy does it in practice: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fx3GnlX4TlY (it’s at 0.39). Of course in competition it’s a wholly different thing, but idk, about as achievable as, I’d say, Yurio’s feat of jumping a quad salchow with BOTH HANDS UP). So I thought that was pretty much on par with the ‘magical realism’ of the sport that YOI seems to go for~
> 
> Now, as a disclaimer, I know next to nothing about in-depth FS scoring and elements, other than what I picked up as a long-time casual figure skating fan. So if anyone wants to point out mistakes, please feel free to do it; I really don’t have a problem with that! Thanks!
> 
> Anyway, SO I didn’t have time to put them in the actual story, but I really wanted to share the final GPF scores for everyone in my lil AU fic:  
> First, these are Yuuri’s FS components edited with how he does them during this fic:  
> http://imgur.com/a/528Zv  
> (basically he changes the first 4T-2T combo to a 4T-4T and turns the last quad toe into a quad flip, which we knew he was gonna do).  
> An average score for a Viktor Nikiforov FS, as we can assume by last year’s GPF results, is somewhere around 220 points, since his total is 335.76. There’s no mention of him breaking any world records at last year’s GPF, so I assumed the FS WR is a little higher: I decided around 224 (for the record the irl WR record for FS is 219.48, and we know the YOI universe has always went for higher scores: compare for instance Yurio’s newly achieved SP WR of 118.56 with the irl SP WR of 110.95). So that’s why I went with Yuuri’s FS score to be 225.41. There’s a huge difference between this and his last known score at Rostelecom Cup BUT he introduced two difficult elements including the 4t-4t combo (of which there is no mention so far in YOI so I assumed it hadn’t been attempted); the masterfully executed quad flip right at the end of the program for extra points, AND had an otherwordly performance to top it off. If Yurio can score 188 on his Agape, Yuuri can nail his FS to make history like so! Yuuri’s total would then be: 323.24 (which would have still ranked him just beneath Viktor in last year’s GPF! *)  
> *Viktor’s score at last year’s GPF is 335.76
> 
> Now YURIO: skates a flawless FS, puts all his jumps in the last half, just like he did at Rostelecom, gains a new personal best, 203.05, and his final score is 321.61, which places him JUST BENEATH YUURI. Ouchh, yeah.  
> OTABEK also skates clean, gains a FS score of 199.52, which is still a very high score, and finishes in third with 311.9.  
> PHICHIT delivers a masterful performance and exceeds his personal best total score by more than 10 points to finish 4th, with 296.55 total points.  
> CHRIS drops to 5th. Following a wild night with Adolphe, which he definitely didn't plan on, but decided to go with once the opportunity arose, because, hey, You only live once, amirite? - he is distracted during his FS and flubs a jump. He performs with his usual panache, however, and scores a decent 192.77 in his free skate, finishing 5th, with 295.14.  
> JJ Leroy in last with 288.56. He put in a decent performance in the FS, but his SP score was too low to catch up, depite him landing all his jumps this time.
> 
> Annnd that’s about it!  
> I’m working towards a fluffy or porny ending! Or both. Both is good!  
> Enjoy the finale~  
> I can’t wait to see how YOI will surprise me for this last time. See you on the other side, guys! Share your predictions in the comments if you feel like it!~


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On to our conclusion for the love-crazed power couple ~
> 
> (don't try that in an ice rink)

Viktor Nikiforov was the winner of 5 consecutive World Championships and Grand Prix Finals.

Viktor hadn’t kissed anyone in several long years, because when he was 17, a boy first did it to him so well.

When he was 19, that boy kissed him for the last time, and Viktor selfishly wanted to preserve that memory untainted. Their relationship (which never progressed any further than making out and dry humping), ended when his boyfriend (also his rival and rink mate, three years his senior), was diagnosed with a congenital hip disorder which prevented him from doing certain types of jumps – so he had to quit competitive skating.

There had been tears and promises they’d keep in touch.

But Konstantin wasn’t serious - Viktor knew that, so Viktor never told him how precious their relationship was to the younger skater, how it made him weak in the knees and made him flub his jumps and daydream about it with a silly smile on his face.

Viktor revered Konstantin as a man and as a skater. He watched his performances with starry-eyed enthusiasm, marvelling over his strength and technique. He told anyone who would listen that Konstantin was the best skater in the world. Konstantin laughed and said that he agreed with him there. People took sides and argued about who deserved more to win out of the two of them, but Viktor was genuinely thrilled whenever Konstantin scored a win, and likewise, Konstantin always had a bright smile and a congratulations for Viktor whenever the younger won.

At their last meeting, Konstantin had kissed him senseless, one hand entangled in Viktor’s long hair. ‘You’re gonna win everything now’, he told him, between kisses, ‘now that I’m gone’, he added smugly. “Yeah right”, Viktor gasped, trying to sound careless, while miserably convinced that he’d die of a broken heart instead. Konstantin had pulled back, taking Viktor’s hand and squeezing it in both his own. “The best of luck to you, Vitya”, he said brightly. “It was a pleasure competing with you.” “You too”, Viktor managed, squeezing back, eyes shining with barely withheld tears. “We’ll be in touch,” Konstantin promised, and with a wink, he was gone - out of the room and out of Viktor’s life.

They messaged each other from time to time, but never found the opportunity to meet again. Konstantin had moved to America to join a touring figure skating show, with an all year round schedule, and Viktor was still competing. They walked in different circles now and neither had much free time. Years later, out of the blue, he read on the news that Konstantin had married a fellow skater he had been touring the professional circuit with. Viktor had messaged him to wish him all the best, and Konstantin had replied, politely thanking him. And that, as they say, was that.

The next time Viktor kissed someone, it was eight years later, on a wonderful impulse. Earlier that day, his mind had somehow anticipated the moment, as he stood in a parking lot, trying to comfort a desperately crying Yuuri, feeling useless and out of his depth. Maybe shocking him into silence would work. That’s right, a kiss might work, his mind perversely supplied – that would be shocking enough. Even after Yuuri’s rebuttal, the idea lingered in Viktor’s mind, and after seeing Yuuri’s quad flip, he couldn’t help himself anymore. Viktor wanted Yuuri, in that long-ignored, intimate way that made him dizzy and breathless. A kiss would shock Yuuri out of his shell, a kiss would reveal and explain everything. It was the only thing Viktor could see fit to give him in that moment, to show Yuuri how precious the Japanese skater was to him.

It was only a slight meeting of lips, but enough to make Viktor lightheaded with excitement – enough to make him feel young again, and just as brittle. And he almost did shatter when it became obvious that Yuuri wasn’t interested in a repeat performance – not that night, and not tomorrow, either – that Yuuri didn’t feel like any moment not spent kissing was a moment wasted, as Viktor did.

But Viktor was an old hand at disappointment.

And he was an old hand at waiting for Yuuri, too.  

Yuuri did initiate a kiss eventually, after finishing his record breaking long program at the Grand Prix – it was only a brief peck, but the contact made Viktor’s lips tingle and shocked him to the core, leaving him flustered in the aftermath. There was no way he saw that coming, and when Yuuri pulled away to smile and act with sparkling confidence for the camera, Viktor gazed at him with helpless wonder, as if Yuuri was a force unprecedented and unmatched in his life. Which, Viktor supposed, Yuuri _was_ indeed.

The next time Viktor felt the touch of Yuuri’s lips was in the cab on the way to the hotel, but he wasn’t completely sure it happened for real, since he was almost passed out at that time. He could have been imagining it. He decided to go with that, otherwise he might start crying, because the feeling of soft feathery kisses brushed all over his face gently by the very person Viktor had been yearning for, and who had cruelly told Viktor he wanted to end things, was too bitter for him to handle.

Now he stood facing Yuuri in the empty ice rink after all the crowd had gone, and all he wanted was for Yuuri to kiss him again, properly this time. But as usual, Yuuri had other ideas.

 

~

 

Yuuri stood watching Viktor in the pale artificial light which bathed the skating rink during its off hours.

The same skating rink where the competition was held, the same where, only a couple of hours ago, Yuuri had skated his exhibition program, to the music of Tango de Roxanne. Yuuri was glad that he didn’t tell Viktor beforehand of his music choice, and insisted on choreographing the program himself. He was glad of the freedom to do so, especially since the gala programs were not judged, only enjoyed as entertainment, and the more outrageous the better. And Yuuri definitely enjoyed it, casting himself in the part of the jealous lover, forced to share the object of his affections.

_His eyes upon your face_

_His hand upon your hand_

_His lips caress your skin_

_It’s more than I can stand_

He could act it all in good fun now that he knew Viktor was his. And it was worth it, just to see the look on Viktor’s face.

Viktor had looked stricken. He got the message alright.

Yuuri had blown him a kiss at the end just to see him flush even more.

Later, when the skaters and the crowd dispersed, leaving the stadium empty, Yuuri had sneaked back in. He wanted one last look at the place which had been the theatre of his victory. He stood there, facing the rink, breathing in the familiar cold air, taking in the silence, and replaying in his mind the events of the past few days. It felt unreal, to be standing in the quiet semi-darkness, contemplating clamour-filled moments bathed in light. 

Yuuri was just about to turn and leave when he was startled by someone’s hand grasping his arm.

“I thought I’d find you here”, a familiar voice said, softly, as if unwilling to disturb the silence Yuuri seemed so comfortable in.

“Viktor!” Yuuri gasped. “I didn’t hear you come up.”

“You were lost in thought.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about – everything.”

“That’s a lot to think about”, Viktor chuckled. “I get nervous every time you’re overthinking things,” he added more seriously.

“I wasn’t overthinking now, though. I was only remembering.... and feeling”, Yuuri clarified with a quiet smile.

“Ah. Feeling is good”, Viktor agreed, and pressed close to Yuuri, wrapping his arms around the younger man and burying his nose in Yuuri’s hair.

“Did you like my exhibition program?” Yuuri couldn’t help asking.

Viktor gave a non-committal grunt.

“I admired the way you moved and looked on the ice. You were very seductive and the passionate music suited you.”

Yuuri waited.

“....But?”

“But I don’t agree with the message you intended for me to receive.”

“Oh? And why not?” Yuuri snickered, pulling back a little so he could watch Viktor’s face in the dim light.

“Because this is not our story, not from my point of view,” Viktor answered.

“Oh. Well, it is our story from mine, from where I stood and watched you do _those things._ Twice, Viktor. You made a program about how I made you feel, so why can’t I?”

Viktor’s lips curled slightly:

“Touché.”

He brushed the tips of his fingers over Yuuri’s wrists coaxingly.

“We may have come from different places, but still – here we both are. Let’s go back to our room, mmm?” Viktor hummed suggestively.

Yuuri considered this for a few seconds. Viktor was still treating him like he was made of glass, like he expected Yuuri to turn and bolt at any given moment. But this was far from how Yuuri felt as he stood there, facing Viktor. A streak of something hot and possessive welled up in him, dirty and almost bordering on cruel.

Viktor was still watching him expectantly, when Yuuri finally answered:

“No.”

Viktor immediately dropped his hand, and studied Yuuri warily.

“No?” he echoed.

Yuuri breathed in deeply.

“No, I don’t want to go back to our room”, Yuuri continued, “because I want to have sex with you right here.”

“Huh?” Viktor squeaked, eyes widening and mouth falling open comically.

“Yeah”, Yuuri nodded. “Is that okay with you? Because, I mean _, you’re_ the one who’s gonna get his clothes dirty.”

Viktor’s mouth opened even further and he blushed furiously as the meaning of Yuuri’s words sank in. Yuuri smirked at him:

“Well?”

Viktor blinked, then looked around appraisingly, his nose scrunching.

“Uhh-“, he reacted, obviously torn between wanting to please Yuuri and the perceived lack of comfort of the surroundings.

“I’m sure you’ve fucked in worse places”, Yuuri said, unable to hold back the resentment in his voice at the thought.

“It’s _cold_ ”, Viktor bit out, eyes flashing at the perceived jab.

“We don’t have to take our clothes off entirely. It will be hard, fast, and impersonal. Just as you like it.”

“Yuu _ri_ ”, Viktor pouted, “come on. I thought we were over this. You’re not still upset?”

“If it had been just that one time.... But you did it again. If I hadn’t found you when I did –“

“Well you have tested my patience too, Yuuri, repeatedly”, Viktor interrupted. “And you already made your point with that exhibition program. That was passive aggressive enough!”

“I don’t think we’re even yet.”

Viktor sighed. Yuuri’s ears were pounding. He waited, holding his breath, for Viktor to decide. It wasn’t really about sex – not anymore, or not only about sex – like everything between them, it was a dance in which they allowed one or the other to lead. Right now it was a battle of wills, and Yuuri knew he needed to win it. A few months ago, he would never have dared – probably in different circumstances he still wouldn’t.

“It’s just that...it’ll be our first time, Yuuri”, he heard Viktor speak. “I don’t want it to be like this.... rushed and messy. I imagined something more romantic.”

Yuuri’s mind immediately conjured a soft bed, with the two of them naked, running hands over each other, eyes warm with affection, bathed in a warm indulgent light. Viktor’s scent enveloping him, his skilled hands over his body, making him lose himself entirely. It was similar to the vision Yuuri had conjured after their first kiss at the Cup of China. And what had he done then? He had retreated in his shell, dazed and confused at the overstimulation. No. Not this time.

“Let me guess”, he spoke up lightly to Viktor. “You want our first time to be on a bed of roses surrounded by scented candles. Too bad. I call the shots this time. You can have your roses and silk sheets later. Now you can either let me have you like this, or we can just pretend this never happened and our relationship will not change.”

Viktor’s eyes moved rapidly over Yuuri’s face, like he was reading him.

“I see what you’re doing, Yuuri. You want to pretend that this is nothing. Like you’re one of those men who fucked me and moved on in the morning. But it isn’t to teach me a lesson, or even because you’re curious or kinky. It’s because you care too much. You’re still afraid of this, aren’t you? And you think that if it happens while we’re fumbling in near-darkness, half-clothed, then you can tune out the fact that it’s _me,_ and it’ll be easier to go through with it.”

Yuuri tsked in annoyance.

“Now who’s overthinking? Couldn’t it just be that I want to fuck you at the rink where I won my first Grand Prix, because the idea turns me on? Now, are we doing this? It’s your call, Viktor. Either you get down on your knees or you walk out of here.”

Viktor shifted closer, the long lapels of his overcoat brushing Yuuri’s chest. He looked searchingly into Yuuri’s eyes, as if trying to decipher his mood. Yuuri fought back a shiver and stared back intently, trying not to lower his gaze.

“My humiliation, is that what this is about? My punishment?” Viktor whispered, breath grazing Yuuri’s lips. “You’re such a child, Yuuri”, he said tauntingly.

Yuuri’s eyes flashed, then darkened, and Viktor smiled in response.

“If this is the game you want to play, we’ll play it”, he continued, seductively slurring the words.

Yuuri waited.

Viktor took off his overcoat and laid it on the ground like a makeshift blanket, then he dropped to his knees in front of Yuuri. He placed one hand on Yuuri’s hips, while the other made to undo the fly on the suit pants which suddenly felt very tight and overbearing on Yuuri’s skin. He sighed in annoyance and pushed Viktor’s hand away:

“What are you doing? No.”

“I thought you wanted –“, Viktor said, and looked up, confused.

“Do you have any of that fancy lotion on you, that you seem to carry around everywhere?” Yuuri interrupted.

Viktor wordlessly turned, fumbled for a second into one of the pockets of his overcoat, and handed the small box to Yuuri.

“Okay, great. Perfect. Lie down now, lie back, all the way down. No, wait- um, no. Actually - turn around. Get on your hands and knees – uh, please.”

As Yuuri fumbled, the corner of Viktor’s mouth lifted in what threatened to become a full grin. Yuuri watched, half annoyed at himself, half helplessly turned on, as Viktor bit the inside of his jaw and his eyes sparkled dangerously. But thankfully, Viktor managed to refrain from any comments, and sat up obediently, then turned around on their makeshift blanket and assumed the position Yuuri had requested.

Yuuri sighed in relief. He dropped to his knees behind Viktor and put one hand on Viktor’s hips to steady himself before doing anything. As usual, Viktor’s presence was larger than life, more potent than any fantasy about him, obliterating Yuuri’s best laid plans. He needed to take back control. He ran a tentative hand along Viktor’s back, underneath his shirt, caressing the naked skin.

Viktor arched his back in a seductive arch, sticking his ass out, and threw Yuuri a pointed look over his shoulder, eyebrow raised in challenge. Even though Viktor’s gaze only seemed to betray arousal and affectionate amusement, Yuuri’s mind interpreted that look as slightly mocking. He remembered how Viktor had looked at his one-night partner back in Japan, a gaze Yuuri couldn’t read at the time. He remembered the stranger’s snarling reaction: ‘ _Stop staring at me like I’m no good_.’ He remembered how the stranger went about to prove to Viktor exactly how good he was. He remembered his own heated fury as he witnessed it.

Yuuri reached around and undid Viktor’s pants, and pulled them down along with his briefs, as far down as he could, leaving them bunched above his knees. He bent his head to suck a kiss on each mound of flesh he had exposed, then dragged down his index finger along the skin of Viktor’s inner ass cheeks.

“Spread your legs wider”, he instructed, breathlessly.

“I can’t”, Viktor answered.

“What the hell do you mean”, Yuuri argued. “You can put your leg over your head and everything.”

Viktor’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.

“I can’t, my pants are in the way.”

“Oh”, Yuuri said, feeling silly for not noticing. Before his confusion could be taken advantage of, Yuuri pushed Viktor all the way down on his stomach and yanked his pants off entirely, in a careless motion, throwing them aside.

“Problem solved!”

“Yuuri!” Viktor shouted. “Careful with my-”

“Shhh. Be quiet. Someone might hear us. Sit up. And do as I asked. You can do it now, right?”

Viktor huffed and spread his legs, displaying himself for Yuuri with his usual challenging panache, resting his upper body on the ground for better leverage.

Yuuri groaned, despite himself, at the view fully exposed for his pleasure.

“Like what you see?” Viktor teased.

“It makes sense that every part of you would be beautiful”, Yuuri answered, and Viktor gasped quietly and was shocked into silence.

Yuuri opened the box of lotion and coated his fingers generously with the stuff, then he felt around Viktor’s puckered hole tentatively. It winked at him even as it resisted the pressure, blushing red as Yuuri increased his efforts, opening to his ministrations, then twitching away, like the pulse of a strange creature. More lotion and Yuuri dared to push a finger inside. The heat was maddening. He pulled his finger out almost all the way, then drove it back inside, and then again, losing himself in an almost hypnotic rhythm. Viktor made a frustrated noise, pushing his ass back against him, and Yuuri stopped immediately.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. But please, Yuuri, add another finger already!”

Yuuri clenched his teeth, added more lotion, and pushed two trembling digits inside the hole which greedily swallowed them. He slapped a hand on the small of Viktor’s back, pushing his shirt furiously up, to expose more skin, as he scissored his fingers inside, stretching him with absorbed focus.

“More”, Viktor directed after a little while. “More, Yuuri, come on!”

Yuuri made a disgruntled noise at Viktor being so pushy, but added another finger. _I have no idea what I’m doing_ , he thought. He felt sweat pile up on his forehead.

“Deeper”, Viktor pleaded, pushing up against him. “Ngh, deeper, harder, please, Yuuri!”

More to shut him up than anything, Yuuri pressed all three fingers inside Viktor’s twitching hole with more force than he’d allowed himself so far, and was stupidly gratified to hear Viktor’s answering moan. Emboldened, Yuuri twisted and turned his digits, stroking the velvety walls, screwing the muscles loose with renewed persistence. One crooked push and he brushed over a spot which made Viktor’s hips jump abruptly. Smirking at Viktor’s startled yelp, Yuuri rubbed against the spot again, and relished Viktor’s answering moan. Perfect. Now that he found it, he was going to abuse it. Yuuri withdrew his fingers and added some more lotion, then slipped them back inside Viktor’s hole, pressing them relentlessly against the sensitive bundle of nerves. He gasped and frowned intently, as he focused on massaging the spot vigorously, not allowing for any slack. Viktor jolted underneath him, hips trembling, puffing through his nose with strangled moans. Yuuri tightened his other hand on Viktor’s hip, nails digging into the flesh, watching a bead of sweat make its path along Viktor’s exposed back.

“Fuck, stop stop stop”, Viktor cried out.

Yuuri froze.

“What is it? Does it hurt?” he asked anxiously.

“It almost hurts. Too much pleasure, borders on pain. I’m ready now. More than ready. Come on. Put your cock inside me.”

A cock. That’s right, Yuuri had one. One which he apparently forgot about, absorbed by the new experience and sensations as an end in themselves. He had stubbornly ignored his own persistent arousal, that now seemed almost uncomfortably close to the edge of an impending climax.

With one last, slow drag, Yuuri eased his fingers out of Viktor’s ass and sat back, pushing his own pants down only enough to free his erection.

He rubbed his cock teasingly over the perfect pink hole, loosened by his efforts, painting it with precum and watching it gape and contract hungrily, as Viktor pushed back against him, humming.

“Yuuri”, he whispered, as Yuuri bent and kissed his shoulder blades, hot and lingering, a quiet assurance that this was not as impersonal as he was playing it, could never be that.

Viktor reached a hand back and grasped Yuuri’s thighs, squeezing them, goading him on.

“Come on, baby”, he breathed.

Yuuri watched as Viktor pressed his cheek down on the ground, throwing Yuuri a look out of the corner of his eye and lifted his hips still further, in a wonderfully submissive display.

Yuuri swore quietly, as he angled his cock and thrust inside Viktor’s willing body, almost shouting his pleasure as the hot silken tightness enveloped him, clamping down on his length like a vice. He pressed on, pushing past any resistance, until he finally bottomed out. He looked down, groaning at the sight of Viktor’s ass cheeks split open by his cock, and stilled, willing himself not to move. It was difficult, the urge to thrust to rapid completion was overwhelming.

As if reading his mind, Viktor spoke up, breathlessly:

“Fuck me, Yuuri. Take what you need. You don’t have to worry about not lasting too long for your first time. We can do this again and again, in more comfortable places”, he added, with a coy sideways glance at Yuuri.

The slight condescending tone in Viktor’s voice stung, and Yuuri’s teeth almost bared in a snarl.

“You’re the one who’s going to be begging by the time I’m finished with you.”

He was entirely done with being careful.

Too much pleasure, bordering on pain?

Yuuri was going to give him just that.

Without overthinking it any further, he pulled back, then drove back inside, sharp and hard like a piston.

“Ahhh!” Viktor cried out in delight.

Yuuri set a pace of short hard thrusts at first, smacking against Viktor’s ass and leaving him scrambling at the floor for balance, gasping out stuttered moans. Perversely, the mechanics of sex, once grasped, allowed Yuuri to put some well-needed distance between himself and the emotionally charged intensity of the situation. He focused on finding Viktor’s sweet spot with his cock and angling his hips just right as to give it a thorough pounding just often enough to keep Viktor begging for it, but not more.

But then he made the mistake of looking – really looking at Viktor’s writhing form underneath him, the long expanse of his back shining with sweat, shirt riding up messily bunched around his armpits, muscles rippling, twitching fingers gripping the rumpled overcoat beneath him.

“So perfect”, Viktor was blabbering, “so good, you’re so good, Yuuri, you feel so wonderful, yes, like that, Yuuri, oh Yuuri, da!”

Yuuri’s hips stuttered and he bit his lips hard, ears ringing with the sound of Viktor moaning his name over and over.

It was difficult to stay focused.

“Harder, Yuuri, fuck me like you mean it – don’t be gentle with me, I don’t – ahhh – I don’t deserve it do I? Ah, да! Красивая!” “Shhhh”, Yuuri hissed at him, even as he gave Viktor exactly what he was asking for, with deep, forceful thrusts. 

Viktor was soon rendered incoherent, as he flailed and gasped for breath. His fingers gripped and twisted the fabric of his overcoat which was already crumpled underneath him, as each powerful thrust pushed his body forward and forced air out of his lungs in desperate, ecstatic moans, which equally aroused and alarmed Yuuri.

“You have to be quiet”, Yuuri struggled to speak, through the all-consuming haze of his own driven pleasure. “Someone may hear.”

He didn’t think his words sounded like an incentive but they only served to spur Viktor on, his moans becoming ear-splitting. Yuuri tugged on his own tie with one hand, managed to pull it off without strangling himself, and in a wicked impulse, shoved it abruptly into Viktor’s mouth.

“Don’t you dare spit it out”, Yuuri hissed, going for threatening. “You’re too noisy.”

Viktor’s muffled moans weren’t any less arousing but at least they weren’t that loud.

Yuuri was alarmingly close, but he needed to see how close Viktor was before he could let go.

“Hold on,” he said, pulling out and nudging Viktor. “Turn around”, Yuuri ordered, when Viktor didn’t move. Viktor’s legs were shaking and he stumbled, but finally managed to turn and lie back down, looking up at Yuuri with a mixture of awe and desperate arousal, as the younger man pushed his legs apart and positioned himself between them. Yuuri had no choice but to return the look. Viktor looked incredible, dishevelled and wrecked such as Yuuri had never seen him, such as Yuuri could never even imagine him before. He wondered how he looked in Viktor’s eyes. Just as incredible, if Viktor’s adoring look was anything to go by.

“Fuck”, Yuuri swore as his eyes ran down to Viktor’s hard cock, jutting proudly against his stomach. He ran an unsteady hand over it, up and down slowly, like he himself liked it, and Viktor moaned appreciatively behind his gag.

Yuuri flung Viktor’s legs over over his shoulders, and sank deep inside the welcoming heat, in one smooth thrust. He started fucking Viktor with long sinuous strokes, pressing their bodies close together, deliciously aware of Viktor’s cock throbbing between them, rubbing against Yuuri’s stomach. He leaned down and kissed Viktor’s neck with sensual abandon, lapping greedily at the skin, his rhythm never faltering.

“Is it good?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor had no words to answer, only inarticulate and increasingly desperate sounds, as he bit down on the tie in his mouth, and that was the best answer Yuuri could receive.

“Yeah, that’s the best you ever had, isn’t it,” Yuuri answered for him.

A drawn out moan was the only reply.

“You’re mine,” Yuuri decided, not a request or a claim, but a statement.

Viktor shuddered at those words, and Yuuri watched in disbelief and awe as the shiny blue eyes which had been holding Yuuri steadily in a piercing gaze, slipped abruptly closed, overwhelmed, and then, incredibly, Viktor was coming, untouched, except for the friction of their bodies, his cock pulsing and shooting out, painting their stomachs in long streaks.

“Fuck”, Yuuri moaned, because that might have been one of the hottest things he had ever seen and he was on the verge of losing it himself. “Viktor...is it okay if I come inside you?”

Viktor gasped faintly, beyond speech, seemingly unable to realize that he could spit out the tie in his mouth.

“...Tap your fingers twice for yes, once for no.”

Another groan and two taps immediately followed on Yuuri’s chest.

_Good._

Yuuri got a better grip of Viktor’s hips and started to pound him at a maddening pace, mouth pressing against every bit of him he could reach. His lips reached a few stray drops of semen, and that’s when Yuuri almost blacked out as he came hard inside the tight hot passage, crying out his release.

Yuuri lay there, half on top of Viktor, trying to get his breathing under control. When he could finally move without trembling, he sat up, and took the tie out of Viktor’s mouth, caressing his face tenderly, fingers lingering over his closed eyes.

“I’m not done yet, you know”, Yuuri said. “But I think we can move to a more comfortable place, like you suggested before.”

He thought Viktor would be quick to take him up on that offer, but the older man didn’t move.

“Come on”, Yuuri insisted, prodding at him.

Viktor’s eyelashes fluttered weakly:

“Have some pity”, he whined. “I’m weak. Can’t move.”

“Oh?” Yuuri couldn’t help smiling. “Am I that good, then, after all?”

“Ha”, Viktor reacted, with half a smile. “You’re never gonna let me live this down, hm?”

“I love you”, Yuuri said, and that had Viktor’s eyes snapping open immediately.

Yuuri arranged Viktor’s rumpled shirt over his torso with gentle motions, and reached for his pants, starting to help Viktor put them back on.

“Your coat is ruined,” Yuuri pointed out, with no hint of apology.

“Small price to pay.”

 

~

Yuuri’s anxiety raised once more to the forefront as they attempted to make their way out and to the hotel room without drawing too much attention to themselves. They were a dirty, ruffled mess, and Yuuri had the impression that everyone who looked in their direction could see clearly on their faces what they had done. Yuuri heaved a sigh of relief when the hotel room door was closed behind him.

“Let’s get cleaned up”, Viktor said taking Yuuri’s hand and pressing a hot wet kiss to his wrist, as he pulled him towards the shower.

Yuuri resisted being moved, and turned Viktor to face him, instead.

“What is it, Yuuri?”

“I’m sorry”, Yuuri said. “For – _that_.”

Coming down from his sexual high, he felt amazed at himself that he could have done something like this.

Viktor laughed brightly.

“Why? You were amazing!”

“I was a jerk”, Yuuri countered.

“Well, yes, a bit. But it was very hot.”

“So...you don’t regret it?”

“Absolutely not. Do you?”

“I – I don’t know.”

“Oh, Yuuri.”

Viktor pressed both of his hands on Yuuri’s hips and drew him close.

“Just think, at our ten years anniversary, we’ll probably be remembering our first time and laughing about it. Who knows, we’ll maybe even try to recreate it.”

 _‘Our ten year anniversary’_ flashed through Yuuri’s mind like a firework display -  Viktor’s casual talk about an extended future together, like it was a given, bringing unexpected tears to Yuuri’s eyes. _He’s talking about our ten year anniversary and we’ve never even kissed properly. We fucked like strangers and we haven’t kissed once._

Viktor’s shoulders were shaking with laughter as he went off about them recreating the scene at future anniversaries, as they got progressively more decrepit, and Yuuri tightened his arms around him fiercely, trying not to sob out loud.

 _Fuck it, I know I’m not perfect,_ Yuuri thought. _I’ll never be perfect._ _And neither is Viktor. But he’s the best thing that happened to me. And I’ll keep on fighting for my own chance at happiness. No one has the right to judge me for this._

“Now let’s go wash up”, Viktor said, pulling away with a wink, but froze when he caught sight of Yuuri’s teary face.

“It’s nothing!” Yuuri said, quickly. “It’s just – it occurred to me that – we haven’t – kissed – since _that time.”_

“That’s true”, Viktor said carefully.

“I’m not – I mean – I don’t – I’m almost as inexperienced about kissing as I am about sex....I was waiting for you to...”

“Well, I’m not really that experienced when it comes to kissing, either!” Viktor offered.

“Ha, right”, Yuuri snorted. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better.”

“I’m serious. I haven’t kissed anyone since I was 19.”

“What?” Yuuri reacted, bewildered. “But you – um –“, he fumbled about, searching for a way to phrase it which didn’t sound confrontational.

Viktor took pity on him and clarified:

“Yes, I did sleep with plenty, but I never kissed them.”

“Why not?” Yuuri asked, wide-eyed.

“Because kissing is special to me.”

“You – you’re – ahm, that’s strange”, Yuuri couldn’t help pointing out. “Will you let me kiss you, then?”

“Will you let _me_ , Yuuri?”

“It’s not like you asked for permission that first time”, Yuuri smiled, even as he angled his head. Viktor met him half-way.

The brush of lips was gentle at first, tender and curious. A meeting of curious flesh and intermingling of breath, sweetly exchanged. Viktor’s lips were as soft and intoxicating as Yuuri remembered, falling open as Yuuri clumsily sought entrance. He sucked on Viktor’s bottom lip and licked along the seam, with soft kitten licks; then Viktor’s tongue came out to play, and they devoured each other’s mouths in earnest, tongues battling in an inexperienced yet passionate dance, as they explored each other. Yuuri felt dizzy with an emotion he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t lust or romantic attraction – at least not as Yuuri had experienced it so far, it was something less selfish, more wholesome, and a great deal more poignant. A lot like gratitude, possibly like falling in love. Yuuri wouldn’t know. He still had no name for it.

They pulled back eventually, searching each other’s faces for a reaction. Viktor smiled at Yuuri and Yuuri smiled back, with soft wide eyes, the nameless emotion as powerful as his urgent desire to possess Viktor, but different in quality, driving him now to gentleness. He thought he could understand why Viktor had no qualms about sleeping around, but wouldn’t allow kissing with just anyone. This felt so intimate; somehow even more intimate than sex; and Yuuri blushed.

“More, please”, he heard himself say.

“Yes”, Viktor agreed. “More.”

“I would like to meet your parents. Ask them for your hand in marriage”, Yuuri murmured between kisses.  
“Ha ha, very funny, Yuuri”, Viktor said, drily, as he angled Yuuri’s head for a better fit.

“I’m not joking.”

“I did tell you about them, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. You told me you loved them, although not in so many words. I’d like them both to be there at our wedding, and Yakov and Lilia too. Do you think Yurio would come?”

“He’d better.”

“I have an idea for the wedding dance.”

“Yuuri. Less talking, more kissing.”

“But I have the best idea, I must tell you. Listen.” He gripped Viktor’s shoulders and leaned over excitedly, making Viktor topple over. The Russian landed on his butt on the floor, and before he could recover, he had a lapful of eager Yuuri whose eyes were shining as he rambled on:

“When we rent a wedding venue, it _has_ to be with an ice rink. And we’ll get similar costumes made – actually you can wear the one you already have and I’ll have one made and we’ll dance to –“

“Stay close to me”, Viktor chimed in, thunderstruck, as he caught on.

“Yes! We’ll keep some parts of the routine, and change others so we can skate it together.”

“Yuuri, wait. That song – is a sad song, it speaks about abandonment and a story that makes no sense. When I was skating it, I must confess I thought about someone I lost a long time ago. It wouldn’t be fair to our love to make it our wedding song.”

“That might have been in the beginning, Viktor. But now it’s become our song, because it has brought us together, and it became a song of hope. Because you cried out in your sadness, and I heard you, don’t you see? And the story that you thought made no sense, now has a happy ending. Have you forgotten how the song ends? _Let’s leave together. Now I’m ready_.”

Yuuri’s voice trailed off as he said those last words, and he frowned at a foggy, dim recollection he couldn’t place – Viktor standing in a hotel room, hair in disarray and clothes rumpled, telling him, on a tender but intense voice: _“When you’re ready, just let me know, just be there, and I’m yours – I promise.”_ The words came to Yuuri as if from far away, through a haze, and he didn’t know whether he dreamt them or whether they were somehow real. He swallowed, and repeated more firmly:

“Now I’m ready.”

 

~

 

_8 months ago, St Petersburg, Russia_

 

“We’re going to get a brand new start, Makkachin. Are you excited? Because I know I am. I’m so happy.”

Viktor was humming as he packed, deliberating over which item goes where.

“Ok, you should probably tell me if I’m being an idiot. Am I being an idiot, Makkachin? Mmm na na na.”

Makkachin looked up at him, and wagged his tail a few times.

“But he finally _called out to me_ – and in such a way, too. I had lost all hope, and then one day suddenly - there it was: look at me, Viktor, I’m skating your routine! Can you believe it, Makkachin, because I still can’t! Of course he could have picked up a phone, but I like this way better!”

Viktor put a cardigan back in the drawer:

“I’m not taking this one, it’s passé. Hmmm. Let’s have some music, eh, Makka?” He turned on his stereo in passing and put it on shuffle.

“I wonder if I’m getting ahead of myself”, he murmured, suddenly serious. “I barely know him. One night of drinking and groping is hardly the basis of a long term relationship, eh? Not that you have any idea about long term relationships, Makkachin, or _I do,_ for that matter, but.... I’m nervous. What if it doesn’t work out? What if we’re not good for each other? What if it’s all just sexual desire and we’re not otherwise well matched? Yuuri is so genuine, Makkachin, he’s so full of life. You’ll see, you’ll love him, I know you will. To tell you the truth, I feel a bit of an old fraud compared to him... What if I can’t live up to his expectations?”

Viktor bundled a pair of socks in the bag discontentedly.

“There are just so many things that can go wrong, Makka. I’m essentially uprooting my life here.”

The magnitude of that suddenly hit him and he paused in the act of removing a t-shirt from a drawer. But then, his features scrunched in a frown of determination.

“But what have I got to lose?”

Viktor brightened suddenly and made a cheerful twirl:

“Absolutely nothing! And at the very least, a wild night of passion surely awaits! And God knows it’s been a while.”

The stereo sang out to him:

“You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if you were expecting a clear resolution about who retires, who doesn't, where will they live, what will they do, etc.  
> Thing is: I decided to leave it open, with the mention that whatever they decide to do, they'll be together.  
> Truth is, hah, I didn't know how to work Viktor coming back to skating in my fic that has been very clear about him letting go and passing on the legacy : )) (because YOI always bloody surprising that's why lol)  
> Also Yuuri might or might not retire, he's not really sure because he's Yuuri, right ;)  
> They basically have all possible choices ahead of them and no matter what they choose, they’ll face it head on, so it’s aaaall fine 
> 
> I actually might write an extra chapter to show what happens afterwards, or another story set in the same series, if inspiration strikes.
> 
> Thank so much for reading, fam!  
> (do we have a name for the YOI fandom, like Fannibals for Hannibal, or Sherlockians for Sherlock? No? Well we should!)


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